Scars Heal
by BlueJay Hobbiton
Summary: Scars can be harsh and obvious; healed wounds of grander or terrible things... but what of the scars we don't see? Ferin is asked by Gandalf to aid the Dwarves in the journey to take back Erebor. Only she is in an unfortunate, and quite ridiculous situation when she first meets them. Thorin/OFC
1. An Unexpected Party

**A/N: Alright then. I'll try and make this brief . I read The Hobbit about 5 or 6 years ago now and never really connected with it. I managed to get half way through The Two Towers before I gave up on that. Have seen The Lord of the Rings and have loved them dearly but the film version of The Hobbit has taken my heart. It is wonderful. I love Peter Jackson's vision of it and I am loving the characters the more I watch it.**

**Now I am currently trying to get through the book once more but I am finding it lacking now that I have seen Peter's deeper characterisation. I have read so many delightful fanfictions and ideas have begun to form. I finally caved and decided to try my hand at it.**

**Be aware, please that I often do not see typos or fix some grammatical errors as once I finish a piece I don't like to sit on it too long as it will never see the light of day if I do. I am also terrible at leaving things unfinished or get too caught up in life to be very quick at updating so fair warning; possibly slow updates in the near future, may not finish this until the next instalment of Peter's version comes out and may contain nuts.**

**I had also been debating on a Bofur/OFC but Thorin has caught me first so for now this shall be a Thorin/OFC fic. I may do a Bofur one in the future as who can resist Bofur? There will most likely be language, possibly smut (I've never written it before but I'm willing to try; will be slow building though) and most definitely violence so be warned.**

**So much for brief. That is all and please do enjoy.**

**Blue x**

* * *

A lovely stretch of limbs was good for the soul, thought Merida, daughter of Ruben, as she lay back on the grass soaking up the sun. Her curly red hair gleamed in the sunlight, recently cleaned of the grease, sweat and dirt that had been caked there from their recent adventure.

A quiet sigh and she shifted, closing her eyes and listening to the wind and the chatter of nearby Hobbits. "This is a grand place, Ferin," she called out with a lilting voice. "Come and sit with me. It's been too long since we have travelled to a place so relaxin'."

A newly washed, heavily scarred dog trotted by, followed by several children trying to tug its tail and pet its fur. '_I bloody would but I'm being hounded by children, if you haven't noticed,' _came the gruff reply, as the dog turned, slipped through grabbing fingers and trotted the opposite way. '_Get them away.'_

Merida chuckled and reached out to touch her staff that lay beside her, an almost reassuring gesture for the young mage. "Och, don't be so unkind. They only want to play."

The dog was now at a loping jog, dodging and ducking around little legs and groping hands. The children just laughed and tried harder. She huffed as she passed by her friend. '_I don't _play._'_

Merida rolled onto her stomach and rested her chin in her hand and hummed, too happy in this place called Hobbiton. From just up the path, came a tall man in grey robes, carrying his own staff and casually clutching those robes to allow for easier steps.

"Ah! There you are, my dears. Enjoying the sun?" Gandalf stepped to the side as Ferin tried to hide behind his legs, the children following. He chuckled and moved, allowing the tiny hobbits to finally grasp hold of their prize.

"Gandalf!" Merida greeted happily. "I don't really know why I've never been before. This place is wonderful!"

"I very much agree."

'_Any news of our new addition_?' Ferin asked, trying her best to ignore the petting and tugging on her ears and tail.

"Yes indeed! Our Mr. Baggin's is going to host a dinner for all of us this very evening, in fact. I am just on my way to inform the others."

'_I think I'll join you.'_

"Oh no, Miss Ferin. I would not dream of it. Enjoy your time here while it lasts and I couldn't take you away from the lovely children."

One child gave Ferin a very enthusiastic hug (Ferin, in her current form, being taller than the child) as if to prove that leaving would deprive her of their love. The dog couldn't have looked any less pleased. Merida laughed and Gandalf waved them off as he went off to see where the others had gotten too.

'_Bloody_ _old Wizard.' _Another hug; this time with sticky fingers stroking her fur. She sighed.

"So," Came Merida's cheerful voice. "Any idea which home it is then?"

Ferin groaned and the children continued their fawning. It was going to be a long afternoon.

* * *

When the sun set and the lamps were lit, the children scurried off to their mother's calls and Ferin finally, _finally, _settled down for a doze in the quiet. They had time yet before they were to find the Hobbit's home.

Merida had ventured off for a stroll or a gander (somewhere anyway, Ferin thought without care) in the hope of more relaxation and finding the home of Bilbo Baggins. Ferin hadn't seen her since before the sun set. Oh what a lovely moment of peace, she thought. It had been too long since she'd had that.

A short while later Ferin woke to a rough shake of her shoulder. "We're late for Aul's sake!".

Ferin groaned. '_But I was in a lovely doze. Go away for another few hours.'_

"No! I can see Gandalf and some of the others heading this way! Hurry or you'll be left behind to find the place yourself!"

The thought of that had Ferin up and on her feet. '_Unnecessary,'_ she growled.

"Ah, Miss Merida!" called Gandalf behind a set of merry Dwarves chatting away to each other.

Merida waved in greeting and was swiftly introduced to Oin, Gloin, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Nori, Dori and Ori. Merida happily chatted away and Ferin, warily kept her distance as she followed beside them. That was a lot of heavy feet against her unprotected paws.

For the moment, Gandalf had thought it best to allow the others to think Ferin was just as she appeared to be; a large scruffy dog. It had been difficult enough to convince them to allow Merida, a young human woman to join them (as Gandalfs apprentice of sorts), so it was with no great difficulty to see how they would react to Ferin's slightly less useful looking form.

So for now, she was a dog.

Wonderful, she thought. She hadn't played 'dog' since the last human village a ways back on their last journey. It was demeaning and horrible and people _petted _and _cooed_... oh, how she'd love to bite the bloody Wizard.

They made their way around the Hobbit homes and followed the path upwards.

"Oh!" cried one of the Dwarves, having spotted Ferin. "So who's your friend there Miss Merida?" He moved towards Ferin and took her in as they continued; grey and black speckled coat, rough, scarred and very unhappy looking for a dog, he thought.

"That would be my companion, Ferin, Mr. Bofur!" she called back, having briefly paused in her discussion of herbal tea with Dori.

"Oh aye, Ferin is it?" He smiled and rubbed his fingers together to make a whisping sound. Her ear twitched but she ignored him. "Oh don't be like that, now," he chuckled. "I'm not that bad."

"She's a bit particular, Master Dwarf," Gandalf said from behind. "Be mindful with her."

Bofur could have sworn the dog huffed before shaking her head slightly and trotting to keep up with Merida.

When they finally reached the top, the gate was swung open and all rushed up to the door, eager for a good meal and excellent company. Unfortunately poor Bilbo Baggins' front porch was far from accommodating to eight Dwarves and one woman and all were suddenly squashed against the door. Merida had just managed to reach the doorbell before they all nearly suffocated.

"Oi! Get your arm out of my back!"

"Stop shoving!"

"I'm not bloody shoving, I'm going to fall down the steps if I don't stand closer."

"Easy lads or we'll all go tumbling."

Ferin had almost escaped the mayhem but Gloin had, indeed, managed to tilt backwards, his foot coming down to step onto her paw. She couldn't help the yelp that escaped.

Oh that was _painful! _She whimpered and hopped back a few paces and down the steps. They all tried to turn to see but the door was suddenly pulled open and in they went.

"At least they fell forward," Gandalf said kindly to her before smiling indulgently at the poor, haggard looking Mr. Baggins.

* * *

It moved fairly quickly from there. Tables and chairs moved, food pillaged and laid out, kegs of ale lumbered in by very eager young brothers. Ferin chose a spot by the door, on top of the glory box that was already covered with mud, and nursed her sore paw.

The smell of food was intoxicating but there was no way she was going near them until they sat down. No more sore paws, thank you.

When they finally settled into their seats, Ferin carefully got down off her perch and trotted up to the table. It was a tight squeeze to fit between two Dwarves. Her head was just above the table and a quick look showed Merida all the way down the back with the largest and the one with all the knitwear. How was she supposed to get food now?

"Oh, hello again!" said the Dwarf to her left. It was the one that tried to get her attention earlier. "You hungry, lass?"

Ferin thought for a moment and then sighed. Time to play dog. She sat carefully beside him and looked at him expectantly.

"Does she give paw?" another asked to her right and went to pet her. Ferin bared her teeth and growled.

Gandalf coughed and warned, "No, Dori, she does not 'give paw'. She's quite an intelligent creature. I would treat her as such."

Dori removed his hand and tried to scoot his chair away. He didn't get far and Ferin was very happy with herself.

"So what culinary delight would you like, lass? Sausage, ham, cheese, bread or maybe chicken?"

Mouth watering, she thought. Only Gandalf and Merida could hear her when she 'talked' to them but it didn't stop her trying with this one. '_All of it please. I haven't had a decent meal in months.'_

"I would suggest all of that and more, Mr. Bofur," said Gandalf, raising a bushy eyebrow at Ferin. "They have only recently returned from a task I needed doing and so haven't had food like this in some time, I would imagine."

A wag of her tail and a huffed bark and suddenly there was a plate with everything he had mentioned on it placed on the floor in front of her. '_How degrading,' _she thought, but there wasn't much choice. Unfortunately, squashed chairs and stamping feet made it almost impossible to eat it but before she could do anything about it, Bofur had it snatched up and on his lap.

"Sorry, lass. Didn't think."

Ferin didn't mind. All that was left was her growling stomach chanting _food food food._ She barely even noticed his hand on her head, scratching her behind the ears as she made quick work of her meal. As soon as she finished he gave her more.

After several helpings, a sated Ferin continued to sit by one Mr. Bofur, head resting on the table as she watched the chatter and merrymaking. She had almost dozed off when she felt his heavy hand on her head. "Don't fall asleep here. We're going to have to tidy in a minute and then we'll settle by the fire."

Ferin shook herself and trotted off to see where Merida had gotten to. A sudden flurry of activity began and then came the singing. And the dish throwing. And the instruments. A few plates flew past her head and Gandalf nearly stepped on her so she ran for cover, finding her perch on the glory box once more.

There was laughter and merriment and Ferin watched as Merida laughed along with them. Now that was a nice thing to see.

A heavy knock interrupted it and a confused and put-out Bilbo, and a sudden, heavy silence filled the home.

"He is here."


	2. Doubts

**A/N: I apologise. I can't seem to connect with Merida as a character so I have made her presence brief. She will not be featured here in the future and if she is, it will again be brief. Another character had made her presence known to me before I started this and now she seems to be clamouring for attention. Who can resist Dwarves after all!**

**I also apologise as I have not had the urge or time to write in quite a while so I am rusty. But please, if you have found some enjoyment in this, then that makes me happy as well.**

**Thank you to my followers, it is lovely to see those who wish to find out more to a story. And I thank my reviewers, LilithLieLoveHeart and redheadedninja. I'm very glad you are enjoying it so far. I can only hope to keep people entertained and happy.**

**Blue x**

* * *

Thorin's introduction had been brief and full of arrogance. Even Gandalf had seemed exasperated by the short and unimpressive opinion of Bilbo.

"Dwarves," he muttered.

Ferin had stayed off to the side, still on the glory box during the exchange. Muffled laughter from the others and a superior smirk from the Dwarvin Prince made Ferin's stomach tighten in dislike. The Hobbit at first glance _had_ been unimpressive compared to people she had met in her lifetime, but standing up to twelve Dwarves and a Wizard as they took over your home was nothing to dismiss so easily.

Thorin passed her perch and glanced briefly in her direction. Ferin wished she could tell him where he could shove his opinion but alas, tensing and glaring at him was about as much as she could do. At least she could face him at eye level.

"Who owns this creature?"

Merida opened her mouth to reply but Gandalf cleared his throat loudly. "She is not owned by anyone actually. She has been a... companion to young Merida here. Her escort, or protector, if you will, travelling back from a village a few weeks to the South."

Thorin turned to take in Merida and the poor girl froze under his scrutiny. He wasn't impressed. "This waif of a girl is the human to accompany us?"

"Ah," Gandalf mused, not meeting Thorin's eye as he looked for inspiration. "Well, no. Merida is intending to stay in the Shire actually. The human to accompany us will arrive here on the morn but I thought it would be best to get you used to the idea with young Merida here. She is quite a fetching lady with a good spirit, if I do say so myself." He grinned in supplication but it turned into a grimace with Thorin's expression.

"Aye," squeaked Merida, managing enough courage to stand straighter and look the Dwarf in the eye. "I wanted some good company, and Gandalf was kind enough to allow me to play stand in of sorts, until tomorrow."

"Why didn't you say so, lass?" came Bofur's good-humoured voice. "We would have made it more memorable for you!"

There were a few sniggers and Merida chuckled. "Thank you Master Bofur, that is most kind but unnecessary. I will have plenty of cheer in the coming weeks right here in the Shire."

Ferin could see Thorin's patience wearing thin with this tangent of conversation. '_Gandalf.'_

"Hmm? Oh yes, of course. Shall we begin?"

They gathered around the table and Ferin could only feel the heavy atmosphere. Such a difference one Dwarf could make. She lingered by Bilbo, settling herself on the floor and waited.

* * *

The mention of the hidden doorway and a key gave them hope, but a fainting burglar left them unsure. Would this journey be possible with just thirteen? Would the Hobbit agree? Would he be useful?

Ferin was unsure but it was not her place to neither change it nor contribute. She was here to accompany them, to aid them in any way she could and that was her role. Nothing more. _In all honesty_, she thought to herself, _there would be nothing more I could give. At this very moment, I am a dog and a very poor one at that. If I don't sort this out soon, I am entirely useless._ Ferin sighed, annoyed with herself. _Old, tired and useless_.

"Are you alright?"

Ferin glanced up to see a sombre Merida. The young woman sat on a stool and regarded Ferin quietly.

'_I am fine.'_

"You do not look it. You look troubled and..." she hesitated. "Well, you look sad."

Ferin stiffened. "Oh please, I am sorry if I offended. It is not my place to pry, I should not have said – "

'_Do not concern yourself. Please.'_

Ferin looked away. Gandalf had asked Ferin to find Merida some weeks back to escort her to The Shire; providing protection along the way. The woman was lovely and was very adept at healing spells for a young human but Ferin had had no desire for cheerful company the entire journey back.

_If wishes were horses as they say_, she thought.

Merida had chattered and sung songs and told stories, and Ferin had quietly endured it, 'talking' little and only when it was required.

The healer sighed, fiddling with a strand of her hair before folding her hands into her lap, gazing down the hallway. There she could see Gandalf talking with Bilbo. She had hoped along the way that Ferin would become more open and friendly but even several weeks of only each other for company had not yielded much. There was not much for it then, as they would most likely not cross paths again.

"I am glad to have made your acquaintance, Ferin. Gandalf has not told me much about you, but from what he has, I am truly sorry. I hope you find happiness some day." With that, she left Ferin in peace.

Ferin and stared out the window; unwilling to move, even as the Dwarves began to wander in from other parts of the house. They took their time settling, lighting their pipes in silence as the quiet of the house and the thoughts of the looming journey ahead began to descend.

Thorin moved towards the fire, surprisingly careful to mind her in the shadows and flickering light, before leaning on the mantelpiece. The quiet was tense and comforting all at once. A heavy sorrow settled; imaginary hands pressing down on the soul. It was so _familiar_... so entrenched, she could not help but allow it to come upon her.

The humming started softly, increasing in intensity as the others joined in and then Thorin sang... and Ferin's heart _ached_.

* * *

Thorin sat quietly, cushioned in the chair Balin had left earlier by the fire, having made for the couch as his bed for the night. Ferin had listened to them move around and chat quietly as they found a spot to sleep. Some took the floor nearby (Bifur, Bofur, Gloin, Nori, Dori and Ori), others chairs (Fili, Kili and Oin) and one or two (Dwalin and Bombur) against the wall.

After a few minutes, there was blissful quiet and Ferin began to doze once more.

And then the snoring started.

After an hour or two of attempting sleep, Ferin gave up. She could only hope this wasn't a regular occurrence.

A butterfly of smoke fluttered into the room and headed in her direction, bouncing around her head and landing on her nose, vanishing with a puff. The smell that lingered was sweet. Several more fluttered in from the direction of the front porch and kept bothering her until Ferin shook head in irritation. At least he was subtle.

Standing and stretching, she contemplated the best way to get through a floor full of Dwarves. She'd have to keep to the edge, around by Thorin and over Ori by the hallway.

Another butterfly wandered in and puffed into non-existence at her ear. '_Yes, yes, I'm coming old man.' _

She slinked over Bofur's foot and under Thorin's outstretched arm, his fingers grazing along her spine as she did so, and hopped with as much care as possible over the knitted young Dwarf.

Once in the main hallway, she made her way to the door, the gap there just enough for her to slip outside. There the tall Wizard sat on the steps, smoking his pipe weed and looking like he didn't even notice her.

"You took your time," he said genially. She didn't answer; merely sat beside him and took in the darkened hills and Hobbit homes stretched out before them. It was a peaceful night and a slight haze of rain had already begun to fall.

"How was your trip with Merida? Quite a lovely young thing."

Ferin's ears slowly flattened, her body sinking with tiredness. She was not in the mood for pleasant conversation. Small talk annoyed her these days. '_I fear, Gandalf.'_

He frowned. "You fear what, my dear?"

'_I fear I am beginning to lose myself.'_

There was a moment of silence as he watched her out of the corner of his eye. "What has happened?"

Ferin looked away for a moment, unsure and embarrassed. ' _I... I'm am finding some darkened moments in my memory in the last few months. Merida has told me... she has told me that several times I seemed to behave like a dog. Like a real dog; chasing and playing and hunting. I remember a moment of rest on one occasion and then I was suddenly in the middle of a copse of trees with a rabbit in my mouth.'_

"Hmm." A plume of smoke curled around him slowly, as if the very substance was thoughtful as well. "The spell is taking a firmer hold, then. I didn't think it would be this quick." He turned to her and took a few puffs of his pipe, thick brows furrowed in thought. "I worry that I should have tried to break it earlier, but I am unsure as to how it will affect you.

"It will be painful, that I can guarantee. I cannot be sure though..." he mused quietly. "I would like to wait until we are closer to Imladris where you would receive better care once the spell has been severed from you."

'_I wish to be myself again as soon as possible. If I must endure pain to do so, then I am willing."_

"That is all well and good, but I need something from Lord Elrond to complete the reversal. Without knowing the details of the Witch's intent, I am afraid I will be doing this quite blind."

Ferin sighed and stood, avoiding eye contact with the man. '_I am sorry that I could not be more helpful. I was... quite drunk at the time. It was not one of the best moments in my life.'_

Gandalf smiled and leaned back to finish his pipe. "It is alright my dear. There would be no adventure in life if troubles did not find us."

Ferin said nothing and quietly retreated inside, working her way back through the hallway and over Ori, who was now sprawled out on the carpet, an arm covering his eyes.

As she passed under Thorin's hand once more, the fingers tightened on her fur unexpectedly; not painful but a firm pressure. She stopped and lifted her gaze to meet his, his steely eyes heavy and burdened by sleepless nights and restless thoughts.

Nothing was said or exchanged in any way, but he seemed to find something in her gaze for his fingers relaxed and remained on her back. Slowly, as to not to disturb him, Ferin turned her gaze away and moved forward towards the fire, allowing his fingers to slip away.

When she finally found rest, her dreams were filled with fire and past regrets.


	3. Greetings Vala

**A/N: Well... I don't really know what to say about the sheer amount of followers and reviews so far! Thank you all so much, it's blown me away!**

**Thank you to my reviewers:**

**LilithLieLoveHeart: I did indeed mention you! How could I not and I have done so again!**

**AutumnKrystal: I'm trying very hard to resist Bofur right now as I am doing this fic! He's so adorable sitting there waiting patiently for me for his own story and I can only hope I can.**

**Compa16: What can I say? You have followed, favourite my story and myself and reviewed as well! I can only hope this is the more you want!**

**IWantEverythingandNothing: I'm glad you love it already and find Ferin cool ha. I can only hope to make her cooler! There is a lot to her yet. **

**On with the story!**

**Blue x**

* * *

In the very early hours of the morning, the sun stretching its first rays towards the sky, the Dwarves, Wizard, human and dog left quietly in good spirits, despite the solemn night just gone passed. The morning dew was heavy from the rainfall during the night but the air was refreshing and clear and the Dwarves quiet chatter soon grew louder as they left for the Inn and their effects.

Ferin trotted beside Gandalf, moving silently on the softer grass, enjoying the dew clinging to her belly and legs despite its coldness and when they reached the Inn, breakfast was had and final preparations were made. The ponies were tacked and burdened, happy to doze in the rising heat from the sun as they waited for their burglar.

When he didn't show, there was a quiet conversation and a few nods and it was decided that moving on was the only option. But they would take their time, just in case.

And so they moved on and bets were made and conversation flowed and Ferin kept pace with the group on foot, sometimes loping ahead and other times walking briskly along the grass to one side of the path (giving the ponies a fair birth; ponies were curious things and seemed to take quite a liking to Ferin when she met them, nipping and nuzzling and nudging her) as she listened to stories and merriment. It was strangely nice to have such company on a long journey. She couldn't remember the last time she had been part of a group so large and so different from herself.

They had just made it to the first set of trees along the path, the path itself curving up and leading away from the lovely little place called Hobbiton, when Ferin heard the first sounds of jingling straps. A sharp, "Wait! Wait!" reached them easily.

They halted their ponies and turned.

"I signed it!" Bilbo declared loudly and with a large smile, before he realised how foolish he may look and collected himself. "I signed it." He handed his contract to Balin who glanced at Bilbo with a wry look before making sure everything was in order.

"Welcome aboard Mr. Baggins!"

Ferin turned away and paced towards the front of the group.

"Give him a pony."

There was sputtering and protests and a yelp of surprise and then they were on their way.

* * *

An hour passed easily, Ferin managing to keep a nice pace beside Gandalf and Thorin near the lead.

"Where is this human woman, Gandalf?" Thorin asked, adjusting himself on his steed before resting his hands on the pommel of his saddle, comfortable in his ponies' steady gait.

"Just up this hill, actually. We should come upon her in a few moments."

"And what skills has she to offer us?"

"Quite a few I would say," the old Wizard chuckled. "Vala, daughter of Sinell, is quite strong. She wields an axe and sword and leans more toward the wonderful use of brute strength over diplomacy. Quite a formidable foe in a skirmish, I would wonder."

Thorin didn't look convinced and Ferin laughed, Gandalf the only one to hear it. '_I wonder what they'll think of her. They will be surprised, I'm sure.'_

Gandalf hummed in agreement, managing to keep a straight face and Thorin looked at the two strangely, but dismissed it as the Wizards own strangeness in itself. "Why does the dog follow then? Has she not served her purpose in her duty to that girl we left behind?"

"Hmm? Oh yes, she has but Ferin here is also a companion to Vala. They are quite close."

Thorin looked down at the dog and frowned. "She seems to have a lot of companions."

Ferin huffed and shook out her coat in annoyance. '_If I were myself, that would be a statement he would regret. "A lot of companions" indeed.'_

Gandalf laughed heartily and Thorin grunted in irritation. This conversation was strange and pointless.

They crested the top of the hill and came upon a stocky woman covered in furs, heavy leather boots and weaponry, sitting astride a dark bay pony with several small packs across the little beast's shoulders. She sat tall, even thought she was only an inch or two taller than Dwalin, and her dirty blonde hair was tied roughly in a braid that fell to the middle of her back. Her sharp eyes, large nose and strong chin made her fearsome but the broad grin and loud laugh at seeing her new companions ruined it.

"Good morning, friends! How are you fairing? I expected you to look like dogs dragged backwards through a bush from the merriments of the night before! I am disappointed!"

"Good morning, my dear! We fair as well as can be on the beginnings of our journey. I trust you have fared well?"

"I have indeed, Mr. Gandalf! I have indeed." Ferin loved Vala dearly, but she had forgotten how much of a morning person she was. So much enthusiasm and they were only halfway through the day.

The heavy woman nudged her pony to join the rest of the progression, introducing herself to the others along the line and chatted amicably before she went to greet the leader. "My apologies for not greeting you first, Master Oakenshield," she said, still grinning and happy. "You did not seem receptive by the sour look on your face."

Thorin scowled and went to reply but Vala spotted Ferin at last. "Ferin! Have you no greeting for me you silly thing?" she laughed.

_Oh, that was unnecessary_, Ferin thought crossly. Vala knew she had to pretend that Ferin was a dog but Vala had a very wry, crude and opportunistic sense of humour.

'_I greet you old friend,'_ she said loudly, and continued to pace beside Thorin and Gandalf, effectively looking like she had ignored her.

"Ah don't be so sore! We've not seen each other in some time. Come, you will ride with me instead of blundering about on those skinny legs of yours!"

'_Oh no.'_

There was a sound of clip clopping hooves and before Ferin could escape, her scruff was snagged and she was deposited on the back of Vala's pony with an undignified yelp. "There's a girl."

Vala glanced over her shoulder to see what could only be described as a much put out dog. "Oh cheer up! I know you don't like horses much but he's a good lad. Not a bother on him, hey, Dob?" The pony nickered and tossed his head happily.

Perching precariously on a wobbling backside, Ferin flattened her ears further, glaring at the amused Dwarf across from her. Thorin did not show it clearly, but she could see it in his eyes and the twitch of his mouth.

'_You will pay for this my friend,' _she growled toward Vala. '_Pay for this in spades.'_

Vala laughed and struck up a rather loud conversation with the wizard, and Ferin continued her balancing act for the remainder of the day; uphill (horrible business) and down, ducking low hanging branches when passing through small areas of forest and finally uphill towards a craggy outcropping where they would settle for the night.

By the end of it, Ferin was feeling decidedly ill and her muscles were aching so she leapt down immediately when Vala halted her pony. With wobbling legs, she stayed and rested as the others set up camp.

Dob moved to stand beside her and she didn't have the inclination to move. '_Go away, beast.'_

But Dob didn't listen. He nickered softly, bending to nuzzle her ears in apology. Ferin sighed, tolerating the pony's affection. '_I am glad to see you too and I am fine.'_

He seemed satisfied with that, moving away to graze on some grass as Vala approached to remove his saddle and satchels.

"You alright?" the larger woman asked surreptitiously, bending her head to the saddle near Ferin.

Ferin chuckled ruefully. '_I am. Just need a few moments until my stomach calms and my legs become more solid under me.'_

Vala laughed and gave her a few gentle slaps on the back. "Join us further in and rest yourself. No need to stay with the ponies. You know I don't like you on your own too long; you get broody."

Ferin sighed and followed her friend towards the fire, settling herself beside Bilbo on his little rock perch. He glanced at her furtively now and again, nervous and slightly twitchy.

"She won't harm you, Bilbo," Vala said, smiling as she took her broth from Bombur. Ferin was only glad he didn't have his own bowl of hot stew when Vala gave him a hearty slap on the back for his worry. The poor Hobbit pitched forward, nearly off his rock but he recovered well, taking his own bowl and wincing as he straightened.

"I, um..." he started, fidgeting in his seat.

"Ah, you are curious about her."

"Well, it's just – she has a lot of scars."

"And that worries you?"

"Seen a fair few battles with you, has she?" asked Nori.

"Aye she has."

"Does she lick the enemy to death?" snorted Dwalin, cleaning his weapons.

"Oh, does she leap at the enemy, fangs bared and ready?" asked an excited Ori, leaning forward and brandishing his spoon like a weapon.

"Well – "

"She probably gives lots of cuddles, wagging that fluffy tail of hers," laughed Kili, who was beginning to whittle a branch.

"She's quite good in battle I'll have you know," Vala said sternly, frowning at the groups jesting of her friend. "She's earned those scars."

"Oh aye?" Dwalin again. "How did she get that one on her back then, the large one from shoulder to hip?" He gestured to a slightly buried scar in Ferin's coat, starting from her left shoulder blade to her right hip; a scar she'd received from an enemy behind her, arching his blade in an upward stroke.

But that had been when she was in her own form, she thought. And Vala was a good story teller... _if_ the stories were true. She never was much of a good liar and false story telling was a waste, according to her. Why tell tall tales when the real ones are more exciting?

"Well she – " she stopped and faltered for a moment and Ferin shook her head.

"She was fighting a Warg," Gandalf interrupted, settling himself near the fire against a large flat boulder behind him. "With and Orc on its back."

"A Warg?" Ori said in awe. "How did she survive?"

"Well, she ran under the Warg, biting at its legs to take it down and she did so but not before the Orc had already run his terrible blade down her back."

Dwalin didn't look too convinced. It was coming from the Wizard after all. Tall tales and embellishments. "And the burn on her foreleg?"

"Aren't you perceptive Mr. Dwalin," Vala said, her tone displeased and her body tense. He had no right to be asking these questions and Ferin couldn't tell him herself. The glare she focused on him did not go unchallenged as he glared in return.

Vala's bowl appeared in front of Ferin to finish the woman's stew as she continued her staring contest and Ferin did so quite quickly, hungry and determined to block out their conversation.

She couldn't exactly tell them off.

"Ferin is quite an intelligent creature," Gandalf said amiably, lighting his pipe and ignoring the tension between the two.

"She's a _dog_," Thorin said, as if it was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard in his long life. "She does tricks and plays fetch."

"Aye, and rolls over," added Fili.

"And sits and gives paw," said Kili, chuckling with his brother.

"What honour would she receive fighting in battle? What tales could she tell?" Oin spoke up.

"They are loyal and good companions," Gandalf responded, not deterred by Thorin's increasing ire at the conversation and giving the brothers and Oin a disapproving look.

"She has scars to prove her survival in this world, Master Dwarf," Vala growled at the Prince, having finally managed to tear herself away from her staring contest with Dwalin. "That should be enough of a testament to her bravery and perseverance despite her _being a dog._ There are few beings in this world I could count on as a friend and companion and I'm glad I can count Ferin as one of them."

"Easy lass," Balin said, stepping forward and holding his hands in a placating gesture. "I have no doubt about that. I think we've just had a long day and need some rest. How about we try and turn in, hmm?"

The group reluctantly agreed and each moved off to their own space.

Bilbo sat and waited with Ferin until all the Dwarves had found a spot and began to sleep, Fili and Kili staying up as first watch. The little Hobbit still kept glancing at Ferin beside him, noting her size (standing, she came to his elbow at the shoulders) and tried to ignore the reasons for her scars.

"Did you really fight a Warg and Orc?" he asked her quietly, not really expecting much of a response. But if Gandalf said she was an intelligent creature, perhaps she did understand them after all.

The dog turned her gaze to him; the firelight reflecting in her eyes and making her look like a predator in the night. His heart picked up at a terrible pace and he tensed like a rabbit caught in a hunters gaze... but then she moved her head forward, the firelight moving away and what was left was a dark brown set of eyes that held no dark intent, only a quiet intensity.

She slipped her nose under his suddenly non-compliant hand, like a pup looking for some affection and he was so stunned he placed it on her head. A small sensation like insect legs ran over his shoulders and up his neck into his hair and then a calm voice fluttered across his mind.

'_I will not harm you, Bilbo Baggins. I promise you that.'_

And then the dog stood and moved away towards Thorin's place of quiet, leaping up onto the flat rock near the Dwarf Prince and lay down towards the open lands around them, keeping watch.

Bilbo stood and went to his own little bed roll, his mind curiously blank. He wasn't surprised to find sleep illusive but he tried anyway.

He never noticed the thoughtful look on the Wizard who had sat behind him throughout the exchange. And he had never noticed that it was Gandalf's spell that had fluttered up into his head that had allowed Ferin to speak to him.

* * *

Ferin gazed out at the darkened landscape, ears trying to pick up anything amiss under all the snoring. It was difficult.

They were so damn _loud._

A rustling sound, a few whispered words and a crunching of an apple brought her attention to Bilbo over by Myrtle. She felt a little bad for the Hobbit but it was his first night out in this wildness so he probably wouldn't have slept anyway.

_Didn't mean you had to make it worse for the poor lad, talking to him like you did, _she thought. She just hoped he was good at keeping secrets.

A soft mumbling sound and an almost silent intake of breath made her turn her head towards Thorin. He looked incredibly uncomfortable. He'd get a terrible cramp in the morning and it'll probably put him in an even fouler mood than he has been already, she thought. Lovely.

Terrible cries sounded out in the distance and Ferin tensed.

"What was that?" Bilbo asked fretfully.

"Orcs," Kili said sombrely.

"Orcs?"

Ferin saw Thorin startle out of sleep in her periphery but ignored him, scanning in the dark for the terrible creatures. She could feel her heart quicken, hear the blood rushing through her system and she was standing at the edge of the platform before she knew what she was doing, nearly falling down the sheer drop to the bottom. Thorin grabbed her roughly by the scruff and pulled her backwards.

"Don't be so eager for a fight," he said gruffly, letting go of her just as quickly as he's grabbed her.

"Throat cutters," Fili was saying, playing with his pipe. "There be dozens of them out there. The lowlands are crawling with them."

"They strike in the wee small hours when everyone's asleep," Kili continued, warming to the game. "Quick and quiet, no screams... just lots of blood."

Bilbo turned away to look out at the land nervously and Kili turned to his brother with a smile. They chuckled.

"You think that's funny?" Thorin said in slight disbelief and Ferin wished she could have said that herself. "You think a night raid by Orcs is a joke?"

'_Foolish boys,'_ she growled, trying to calm her heart and her mind. The screeches had been distant. They were nowhere near, they were safe for now. She had to keep telling herself that.

Kili looked sufficiently chastised. "We didn't mean anything by it," he said quietly.

"No you didn't. You know _nothing _of the world." He stalked away from them.

"Don't mind him, laddie," Balin said, smiling in sympathy as he went over to the brothers. "Thorin has more cause than most to hate Orcs."

And so he told the story of the Battle of Azanulbizar, where Thorin faced Azog, the Pale Orc and took his arm in the vengeance of his grandfather and father. When Balin had finished, all the Dwarves were awake and in awe of their leader, gathering and standing to face him as he turned. To have survive such a battle, to have lost so much and continue on... how could they not stand by him now?

Bilbo was sitting near the fire, arms wrapped around his knees as he digested the tale. "And the Pale Orc? What happened to him?"

Thorin strode back to his place, through the space his men had left him. "He slunk back into the hole from whence he came. That _filth_ died of his wounds long ago."

Ferin nearly missed the look Balin and Gandalf exchanged. By sheer luck she glanced up and it sent a spike of fear into her heart. The others moved to settle back into sleep for the remainder of the night but she just sat there, unmoving, _afraid_.

Thorin beside her, in his place of rest from before, and probably meant to stare of broodingly into the distance but he spotted Ferin instead; in the same place he had dropped her by his feet earlier.

Ferin did not notice him for a moment. She did not want to acknowledge that the story frightened her, brought terrible memories to her and she was _trembling_.

"Are you so eager to face those out there, you tremble in excitement?" he asked lowly, unwilling to let his men see him openly conversing with the dog.

She shook harder, closing her eyes against the onslaught of memories trying to crawl up to frighten her. A heavy hand rested on her back and there was a second of silence before, "You are _frightened_," he said in wonder.

And then he moved over and cleared his throat, gripping her snout gently but firmly and pulling her gaze up to his. He was frowning severely but his solid grip and focused demeanour helped to calm her.

"And you ran to battle with your friend?" Ferin's ears flattened even more and she looked away. _That was before, _she thought. _Long ago when I was braver and younger and less world weary._ "Keep your secrets then. And if you tell no one, you may rest by me but only for tonight."

He gestured to the space he had made for her between himself and the rocky platform, away from direct danger and questioning glances from the others. When he let go of her muzzle, Ferin slowly slipped into the space he had made and curled up without looking at him. She didn't know what he'd do if she didn't (thoughts of either him shoving her away or pulling her into it crossed her thoughts).

And there she rested for the night, her mind surprisingly quiet and Thorin surprisingly docile, his hand resting on her back, fingers curled in her fur but she hardly even noticed.


	4. Back to Before

**A/N: Now **_**this**_** was cathartic. Whew! A nice surprise in this one. **

***cough*brokenspell*cough*.**

**Anywho, thank you to my followers and my reviewers:**

**LilithLieLoveHeart: Thank you so much, my dear!**

**SeaofDreams13: I really hope you enjoy this chapter. It's a little light on Ferin's personality but she has a lot of it which will you will see as we go!**

**IWantEverythingandNothing: Thank you very much. Not much Thorin and Ferin interaction in this one but there will be a lot coming don't you worry!**

**On with the adventure!**

**Blue x**

* * *

It rained for three days and two nights and they were all miserable in their own way. Bofur lamented his soggy pipe and drooping hat, while Oin tried to keep his hearing horn from acting like a funnel into his pocket. Dwalin scowled but wouldn't be defeated, staying silent and stoic while Ori stared off into the trees, shoulders slumped, knitwear sodden. Bifur and Bombur kept shaking themselves out, much to the consternation of their ponies as the weight shifted unevenly, making walking in the mud even more difficult while Fili and Kili kept making funny faces and gestures at the back to entertain themselves. Nori, Gloin and Dori said nothing like Dwalin, ignoring it as best they could. Poor Bilbo hunched his shoulders in vein and tried to think of more pleasant things and Thorin just brooded, as if the rain had a personal vendetta.

Vala didn't seem bothered at all and neither did Dob, most of him covered in his riders furs and Ferin tried her best to trudge through the muck, legs tired and fur slick. The cold was starting to run into her bones but she kept on, entirely reluctant to ride on Dob.

Dori finally gave in, "Here, Mister Gandalf! Can't you do somethin' about this deluge?"

Gandalf raised an eyebrow and turned slightly to call back, "'Tis raining, Master Dwarf. And it will continue to rain until the rain is done!" What did he expect him to do? "If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another Wizard."

Dori pursed his lips and rolled his eyes upward but stayed silent.

"Are there any?" asked Bilbo, a bit desperate to have distraction but curious all the same.

"What?"

"Other Wizards?"

"There are five of us. The greatest of our Order is Saruman, The White. Then there are the two Blues..." he paused. "Do you know I've quite forgotten their names."

"And who is the fifth?"

"Well that would be Radagast, The Brown."

Bilbo couldn't resist. "Is he a great Wizard or is he... more like you?"

Ferin, who had been slightly ahead of Bilbo had to stop she was laughing so hard. Gandalf, ignored her. "I think he's a very great Wizard... in his own way. He's a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals to others. Keeps a watchful eye over the vast forest lands to the east. And a good thing too, for always Evil will look to find a foothold in this world."

With that, the company continued in silence and an hour or so later, the rain stopped; the Dwarves cheering as spirits became high once more.

* * *

The next day was long but enjoyable because it was _dry_ and warm. They made camp at the crest of a hill at the end of the day, by an abandoned house, unpacking the ponies and rolling out the bedrolls and Ferin took a quick scout of the perimeter. There was a scent present around the house, faint but oddly thick and horrible. Old but not that old. She'd never smelled anything like it before. And Gandalf looked worried. That was always a terrible sign. He and Thorin began to talk and then fight and then Gandalf left so Ferin went to Vala.

"Make yourself useful," she said, setting up her own place to sleep before going to look after Dob. "Bofur's gone to collect firewood."

And so she nosed the ground and followed Bofur's trail into the trees, finding him easily.

"Ah, hello, lass! Grab a few of those over there," he nodded his head towards a few larger sticks to his right, while he collected some more. "They'll do nicely to hold the pot."

Ferin collected the sticks and trotted after him as he made his way back to the camp. By nightfall everyone was starting to relax a bit, enjoying their dinner and when Bofur finished his own stew, after sending Bilbo off to the boys, he regarded Ferin thoughtfully.

Picking up a stick he'd not needed for the fire, he waved it enticingly in front of the dog's face with a smile before tossing it away towards the edge of the camp. The dog turned to stare in the direction it went and then stared at him, and the only way he could ever describe her expression was that, if she were a person, she'd looked baffled and a tiny bit concerned; like he'd lost his mind.

"You're supposed to fetch," he said encouragingly.

She stared, still not rushing off after it.

"You know, get the stick and bring it back?"

"It's a game," Ori added, not understanding why she wasn't fetching. The dog looked at Ori now, and then Vala, and then back to Bofur.

"Do you not know how to play?" he asked, scratching his head, his hat wobbling with the movement.

"She used to," Vala said, ignoring the dog's glare in her direction. "But she became to battleworn and a bit of a – " she stopped suddenly, almost saying 'a bit of a _drunk_', which was true but they thought she was a dog. " – sombre little thing. 'Play' seems to have been lost."

"Well that's not right," said Dori, to the surprise of nearly everyone. "Animals should play, it's in their nature."

So Bifur gave her a playful shove on the shoulder while Bombur ruffled the fur on her head. Vala gave a little playful tug on her tail and stood so there'd be no place to hide and Ferin was up and trying to get away, only to be deterred by Ori who tried to grab her and Bofur who laughed and chased her around for a bit.

They were just starting to get into the merriment of the game, Ferin bolting and leaping over Oin and Gloin, running around by Thorin and Balin to escape Ori's quick little hands, when Fili and Kili ran out from the trees shouting something about Bilbo.

And suddenly there was movement and weapons and roaring as they burst through the trees and attacked the brutish Trolls. It was co-ordinated chaos. Dwarves stabbed and struck and tumbled and dodged, saving each other in the effort to save the Hobbit.

Ferin charged through the numerous legs, biting and barking, distracting the trolls more than actually doing any damage. She was struck by one of the meaty hands, jerking to one side, nearly being crushed by a hideous foot. And that's when she spotted Bilbo, running to the ponies with a troll sized knife.

'_No you fool! Get away!'_

But it was too late. He'd been seen and suddenly the cessation of trolls lumbering about brought a halt to the chaos. Bilbo was held tightly by two of them, legs and arms gripped and ready to be pulled. He looked at Thorin, unable to communicate verbally the pure terror buried under his stunned expression.

"Lay down your arms! Or we'll rip his off."

And so they were stripped and bound, ready to become a troll's next meal.

"What's that?" one with a high voice asked, grabbing Ferin none too gently in his fist and bringing her up to his face.

"A mutt by the looks of it," another said, reaching over to take her. "Give it here, might make a nice starter."

"No, get your own! I found it, this one's mine!"

"Will you two shu' up, I'm trying to think of a something nice to compliment the food!"

Ferin forgotten in his hand, the high-voice one looked at his companion. "Don't bother cookin' 'em. Let's just sit on 'em and squash them into jelly!" He moved towards the others, contemplating which one to choose and Ferin was starting to feel a little squashed herself.

So she bit him and he gave a yelp, flinging her into the side of a large rock and she remembered nothing more.

* * *

Vala dusted herself off after redressing, displeased that her furs were nearly ruined and adjusted her axe hooked into her belt before going over to the unconscious Ferin. The dog was no worse for wear, having managed to dodge most of the trolls and she'd survived a blow to the head before so Vala was confident she was alright, if a little bruised.

"She won't be pleased that she missed the trolls being turned to stone," she mused, crouching on her haunches to shake her awake. It had been a very interesting sight indeed, not one you see every day.

The dog stirred, shaking her head and wagging her tail when she saw Vala. "Good morning sleepy head. You missed something special, you know?"

But there was no annoyed or disgruntled voice in her head for her teasing comment, and once Ferin was on her feet and less dazed, she wagged her tail in earnest, giving Vala a lick on the hand before bouncing off to greet the others.

"What...? Ferin?" she stood and watched the dog nearly run into Bofur in her enthusiasm, barking and running in circles for his attention. He laughed and bent to play with her.

"Thought you said she didn't play!" he called to Vala, quickly picking up a stick and tossing it, the dog bolting after it. When she returned she pretended to play nice, allowing him to try and take it before rushing off towards Thorin and Gandalf, Bofur laughing as Kili and Fili gave chase.

There were oblivious to Vala's panic. "No._"_

Thorin was surprised when the grey speckled dog ran up to him with a stick, as she roo-ed at him, trying to entice him to play with her.

He frowned. "What's wrong with her?"

"Oh dear," Gandalf said.

"Ferin!" Vala shouted sternly, jogging up to the dog as the boys reached the Wizard. "Ferin, snap out of it, this isn't amusing!"

"But, she's finally playing!" Kili said, still trying to catch the dog as she pressed close to Thorin.

"Yes, why stop her?" asked Fili, still laughing as the dog dropped the stick and nudged Thorin's hand insistently for a pet. He gave her one reluctantly to try and calm her down.

"Because it isn't right!" the larger woman snapped, wiping the smiles of the young brothers faces. They could finally see that she was worried.

"Vala," Gandalf began, placing a hand on the woman's shoulder. "We are going to see where the trolls cave is located. Give her some time and if she is not herself afterwards, I will try and bring her out of it. I'm afraid that will be the only thing I could do until we reach somewhere safer."

"I – fine. Fine, but I will hold you to it! This has gone on long enough."

"Agreed."

* * *

Bilbo stood outside with the ponies, absently petting Ferin on the head as she sat beside him. One sniff of the cave and the dog had remained firmly outside, happy to sit with the little strange creature who gave wonderful scratches behind the ears.

Soon enough, the Dwarves emerged, bearing new finds, chatting amongst themselves as they showed off to their companions.

But the small happiness was shattered as Thorin shouted that something was coming.

"Stay together," Gandalf called. "Hurry now! Arm yourselves."

Ferin followed, barking excitedly, thinking it was a game.

"Ferin!" Vala called sharply, but she was ignored.

A terribly heavy something was coming through the trees ahead of them, branches snapping loudly amongst a rhythmic thumping pounding the ground. Dwarves quickly moved into better positions, weapons ready to fight the –

...large sled being pulled by rabbits and steered by a man in a brown robe. Before anyone could form a proper thought, he began shouting, "Thieves! Fire! Murder!"

And then he stopped, looking a little lost as he spied the Dwarves surrounding him.

"Radagast!" Gandalf greeted happily, before it hit him. Why in Aule's name was he here? "Radagast, The Brown. What on earth are you doing here?"

"I was looking for you, Gandalf. Something's wrong. Something's _terribly _wrong." He paused.

"Yes?"

The others watched him warily as he attempted to remember what it was he wanted to say. "Just give me a minute." His shoulders slumped and he threw his hands down despairingly. "_Oh! _ I had a thought and it – and now I've lost it, it's right there, on the tip of my tongue!"

Gandalf stared at him oddly and Radagast amended, "Oh! It's not a thought at all! It's a silly old – " Gandalf reached up and gently grasped what was on the Brown Wizards tongue, "- stick insect."

After a few moments of Radagast trying to remember his thought, Gandalf had had enough and needed a bit of space so he waved off the Brown Wizard and stepped away from the group to have a thoughtful puff on his pipe.

"Um..." started Bilbo, unsure how to start a friendly conversation with such a strange Wizard. But Radagast was more interested in the dog being quietly held by Bofur so she wouldn't do anything stupid.

"Well, hello! Who do we have here?"

Vala went to step forward in Ferin's defence but Ferin had already started wagging her tail and dancing on her paws to try and get at the odd man. Bofur, seeing no menace in either the Wizards or Ferin's eyes, let her go.

She immediately bounded towards him and he laughed as he greeted her. "Well, isn't that an interesting spell you've got," he said in wonder, eyeing her with the expertise of... well, a Wizard. "A bit nasty but breakable."

"A spell?" Thorin asked slowly. It was not a nice tone of voice.

"Oh yes, Mister Dwarf. A terrible Witches spell! Feels like one of Moira's. She never was one for being subtle in her lessons."

"Lessons?" asked Vala, always having thought the Witch had had a vendetta against her friend for reasons unknown.

"Yes, yes," Radagast said distractedly, rummaging in his robe for something. "She never was one to be mean. There's always a reason for it. Now where did I put that – aha!" He pulled out a purple crystal the size of Bilbo's palm, rubbing it in his hands for a moment, warming it up before he tapped it on Ferin's forehead.

The dog shook her head and stopped wagging her tail, looking around her in a bit of a daze.

"What did you do?"

"I just brought her mind back, Miss," he replied to Vala, rubbing the crystal again, faster this time. "It needs a bit of a kick start before I can use it to reverse the spell." He continued rubbing, completely missing the entirely confused assembly of Dwarves and one Hobbit. "Now, this should bring you back to the way you were just before the spell, do you understand?"

Ferin, who was finally lucid after the haze of her dog behaviour, could only stare with wide eyes as the now glowing, pulsing crystal moved towards her forehead once more.

There was a fleeting thought before the crystal made contact, '_Before I was changed...? Oh no – wait –"_

A flash of light, disorientation and _pain_ and where there had been a dog, now kneeled a woman. Pale skin clashed with the unkempt, dark green tunic she wore that was held in place by a worn leather belt. Her dusty tan leggings were stuffed into and knee high boots that had seen better days and there was no sign of weaponry or cloak against the weather.

Her hair was unusually cropped quite tight to her head, sticking out at varying angles and looking like she had done it herself while drunk (which she had done) and it only accented a large scar that marred her features across her brow and down the right side of her face to her cheek.

Ferin blinked hard, waiting dizzily for the white specks in her vision to fade and when they did, she realised the world was _spinning_ and it made her quite ill.

"Ferin!" Vala cried, rushing to her friend and enveloping her in a tight, almost suffocating hug but Ferin didn't seem to feel it much, allowing her friend to support her.

"Vala," she said slowly, inquiringly, her voice rough and a little distant.

"Hmm?" came her friend's voice at her ear, unwilling to let go.

"I have a few questions."

"Yes?"

"Am I naked?"

A bark of laughter. "As a babe!"

"_What?_" She struggled a bit.

"I'm only jesting. I've seen you dressed better but you're not naked."

Ferin relaxed again. "Oh good. Do they look angry?"

"Well... More shocked I think. Except for Thorin... and Dwalin. Fili and Kili look amused though, and very interested."

"Bollocks."

Vala burst out laughing. "Any more questions?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, just one. Why is everything _moving_?"

Vala finally moved away, hands resting on Ferin's shoulders as she took in every detail of her friend. Her eyes widened in disbelief. "Oh good Gods, you're _drunk!_"

Ferin swayed a bit but Vala steadied her firmly. "A little," she admitted gamely, glancing around at the others. She waved a at them with a sluggish arm, "Hullo."

Fili and Kili waved back before getting a thump off Balin and Gloin.

"I may have something to sober her up," volunteered Dori, feeling around for some of the herbs he often kept in his pockets for tea. He pulled out a cloth wrap full of something dark green and leafy and Oin stepped forward to look.

"Aye, it's better in water but if you chew it, it should help," he offered, handing her a few. Ferin took them with a prompt thank you and popped them in her mouth. They tasted _awful._

After a few minutes, her head started to clear but then the pain took over. A low keening noise began in her throat as her head felt like Dwalin had taken his hammer to it, her bones ached and her skin was on fire!

"Ferin, what's wrong?"

"Is she having a reaction?" Bilbo asked anxiously.

"No," Vala said in confusion. "She's had those before. Gandalf warned me she'd feel pain; that's why we were hoping for somewhere safe before reversing it but I didn't think it would be this bad."

Ferin could not stop a sob escaping as she curled in on herself. "Make it stop! Please."

"The drink must have had a numbing affect," Oin concluded, racking his brain for something quick he could make up to help her but there was no time as a howl rent the air.

Warg Scouts. Ferin heard howling and growling and the slice of metal meeting flesh and the thump of a hammer on bone. "We have to move, Ferin!" Vala urged and so Ferin gritted her teeth and tried to ignore the pain.

Radagast led them away and they had to go, they had to run and Ferin stood and ran with them, the pain tearing at her insides, _burning _and _stabbing_ and her eyes watered, her lungs burned and still she ran.

Vala tried to guide her as much as possible but the sounds around her were fading, replaced by a ringing in her ears and the _rush rush rush_ of blood through her veins. Her legs pounded the earth and fought their way over the rock and grass, sending jolts up the bones.

She couldn't get enough air, her breath sounding harsh and loud. Eyes watering, she followed the blurred shapes of the others until she was yanked to a stop behind a cluster of rocks. A rough hand slapped across her mouth to keep her quiet and she stilled as much as she could, squeezing her eyes tight against the overwhelming urge of tear at the offending appendage to _breath for fuck sake!_

Thumps, growls and horrible screeches and they were suddenly moving again, faster this time. A grey shadow grabbed her but she couldn't struggle, all her effort having gone into fleeing and breathing and just staying conscious.

And then she was tossed down a hole and _the pain._ Her throat was raw and a horrible sound echoed around where she was and she realised she'd howled like the Wargs that were chasing them.

Closing her eyes, Ferin pushed herself backwards against the rock wall, clenching her fists and breathing, breathing and sobbing and growling. A distant sound, familiar in some part of her brain sounded above and when she opened her eyes there were the others, surrounding a dead Orc.

And then they were moving again.

_Oh please, no more,_ she thought. But she was dragged up, and Ferin walked and Vala steered her but then there wasn't enough space so Ferin fell forward into something solid surrounded by fur and she clung to it, buried her face in it and _walked and walked,_ guided by the Dwarf in front of her, trying to allow his smell to take her away from the burning. Earth and smoke and metal and sweat.

The sunlight was strong when they emerged to the view of Imladris and Ferin clutched the Dwarf tighter, fingers cramping, head throbbing. A rumbling vibrated through her ears as he talked with another and then the world began to fade.

She managed a strained, "I'm going to pass out," before she did just that.


	5. Battles Fought and Truce is Made

**A/N: Well then. This didn't entirely follow what I had planned but stories do have a mind of their own sometimes.**

**Thank you to my followers and reviewers once more:**

**ZabuzasGirl: I have updated as immediately as I could! **

**IWantEverythingandNothing: Is it bad that I want to feed your addiction? Ha! Hope you enjoy!**

**Onwards!**

**Blue xx**

* * *

A sharp intake of breath and Ferin was awake, head up and eyes rapidly taking in her surroundings; darkened room lit by a lantern by the bedside, a window, a dresser, a pale beige curtain stirring in a slight breeze...

She relaxed, dropping her head back into the soft pillow face first. There was no danger here.

After her quick perusal of the room, she took stock of herself. Her bones ached still but her skin had faded from a burn to a fleeting sting, and her head was no longer throbbing. Her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton and she was on her stomach, arm hanging over the side of the bed.

She spied a cup of water to her right on the dresser. It looked like it required a lot of effort but sucking on her tongue proved fruitless and her throat hurt so she'd have to move.

"Good morning!" called Vala, striding into the room as if she knew her friend was awake. She stopped and watched, bemused as Ferin flailed one arm in vain for the water, fingers just shy of grasping it. "How are you feeling?"

"Go away," she croaked.

Vala strode around to the other side of the bed, towering over Ferin and smiled knowingly. Ferin glared. Vala smiled.

A blustering sigh and Ferin gave in. "I feel like a horse's backside."

"You certainly look like one," came the quick, but fond response.

"Piss off and give me the bloody water."

Vala folded her arms.

Another sigh. "Please."

Vala stepped forward and grasped the back of Ferin's tunic (happily supplied from the Elves in a light blue as well as similar, loose leggings) and hauled her up to help her sit. She gave her sluggish friend the water and watched her drink it greedily.

"How long was I out?"

"Three days. You passed out on Thorin, nearly dragging him down with you, you were gripping so hard. We carried you the rest of the way and the Elves took you from there."

Ferin frowned and peered into the empty cup, feeling too heavy to care. "Surprised he didn't throw me off when I first hung on."

"Oh, he tried. It didn't go very well, obviously and you were keening so much I think he just gave in. Wasn't much space in the passageway to do otherwise."

"Hmm. Maybe I should avoid him for a while?"

Vala shrugged and Ferin only noticed that she wasn't in her usual layers of fur and leather. She looked relaxed and more feminine than she'd ever seen her in a long, pale green tunic and brown leggings. Her feet were bare and flexing on the cold floor.

"Enjoying the place are we?"

"Very much so!" Vala answered, putting her hands to her hips and smiling broadly.

"Going to become a happy little Elf?"

"Don't be mean," Vala laughed. "It's the nicest place I've been to and I'm enjoying the fact we're to remain here for two weeks."

"Two weeks?"

"Aye, Gandalf, Thorin and Lord Elrond figure the map is to be read by a certain time and moon and such nonsense so we're to recuperate here before heading across the Misty Mountains."

"Lovely."

"Don't sound so enthusiastic!" Vala laughed, bending forward and tugging Ferin to her feet. "It'll give me time to get you back into shape. It's been a while since you've wielded a weapon and your effects happen to be right here, in the care of the Lord of Imladris, as you know. You arranged the bloody thing."

"Gandalf did, actually. Though why he left my things here baffles me." She tried not to sway too much as her legs wobbled. It had indeed been a very long time since she had been on two legs.

"Why?"

"Well..." Ferin hesitated.

"Go on," Vala urged, wrapping her arm around her friends waist as they began to leave the room to find the others. Ferin had to crane her neck a little to look at her larger friend, her head only coming to Vala's shoulder.

"Some of them aren't exactly mine..."

A bark of laughter. "What?"

They moved through the hallways and corridors at a nice pace, Ferin enjoying the cold floor on her own bare feet. She allowed the silence to build a bit, unwilling to talk about the fact that her swords were, in fact, stolen from Elves and now, worryingly enough, had remained with Elves for the year and a half she'd been... incapacitated.

She cleared her throat and they rounded a corner to see the collection of merry companions sitting on the floor by a balcony, cooking food and burning... furniture? "I may have borrowed - _borrowed mind you _– my swords from Elves," she said absently, not realising how loud she'd said it as they arrived at the group.

"Borrowed is a very interesting word, my dear," Gandalf said to her left on a bench against the wall, as if he'd been part of the conversation from the start.

The group quieted and those who had been facing away, turned to stare at her. Ferin blinked, tired and slightly uncomfortable by the scrutiny. She was a stranger to them, after all. Had lied to them and pretended to be something she was not.

"You stole swords from Elves?" enquired Bilbo in confusion.

"_Borrowed,_" she insisted, shaking a finger at him, nearly swinging forward in her terrible co-ordination. Her body still wasn't responding very well, needing more rest but Ferin didn't want it. Vala just managed to steady her before she toppled into Bifur.

"Borrowed means giving them back," Vala said sternly, but the twitch of her lips gave her away.

"They will get them back. When I die. They'll live on for thousands of years after me and I'm sure Gandalf will return them, yes?"

The Wizard scoffed, lighting his pipe.

"Well," said Bofur. "She's in my good books!"

"Aye and mine," added Kili.

"Mine too," said Fili, both brothers stepping forward to stare at her like she'd sprouted leaves of gold in her hair.

"Boys," growled Balin, shaking his head when they gently took her by the arms, guiding her to sit between them among the others.

"It's alright, Mister Balin," Ferin said kindly, waving him away. "I'm not bothered by lack of manners."

"She has none herself," Vala said good-naturedly, stepping over Bifur and Bofur to sit by Dwalin on the far side of the fire. Ferin pretended she didn't see the, surprisingly, amicable nods they gave to each other. She didn't know what happened there but she was glad Vala seemed to be fitting in with the Dwarves in her absence. Her loud, aggressive and boisterous nature often deterred people from getting to know how loyal and brave she truly was and Ferin never liked to think about the time before knowing her.

Kili, to the right of her, was staring at the scar on her face while Fili tugged a few strands of hair as if he'd never seen it before. "If you're looking for insects, little ape, I'd suggest you try elsewhere."

Fili stopped abruptly, realising what he must have looked like and removed his hand when Thorin glared at him across the fire. "Sorry," he said sheepishly.

Ferin waved him away and Bofur and Kili howled with laughter. She ignored them in favour of looking at the small Hobbit watching her from the corner of his eyes to her right by Thorin and Balin. She smiled and shook her head at him. "If you wish to ask me questions, I will not be offended, Bilbo. That goes to all of you. I apologise for the way I have introduced myself but I was... afraid of what you would think. I had a desire to travel on this journey for my own sake so I chose the less resistant path, which meant doing you a disservice."

"You'll answer anything we ask?" Ori asked, shuffling forward with his notebook and pen ready.

"Perhaps not all, for some things are not pleasant to remember, but I will do my best. It has been a long time since I have had someone who didn't know me or would want to know me." It sounded sombre but it was a truth and she felt no sorrow by it, having accepted it early in her life.

There was a moment of silence as the older Dwarves contemplated appropriate questions or pondered if it was right to question her at all while the younger ones and Bilbo tried to hold their tongue from bursting out with a dozen questions at once.

Kili didn't last long. "How old are you?" he blurted, earning sighs from the others. Of all the questions he could have asked.

"It's not right to ask a lady her age," frowned Dori, Nori agreeing with him with a grunt and a sharp nod.

Ferin smiled. "I am one hundred and eighty seven."

"So you're not human?" Bilbo asked.

"No, I am not."

"Then are you a Dwarf?" asked a curious Ori.

"Don't be daft, lad," said Dwalin. "Do you see a beard or large ears?"

"She could be part Dwarf," said Bofur, gazing at her as if he could pick out Dwarven features where none were to be found.

"Part Elf maybe?"

"Or part Hobbit." They glanced at Bilbo, his feet and ears and then Ferin. Smaller feet with no hair and rounded, human-like ears.

"She could be all or none," interrupted Gandalf, eyebrows raised mischievously.

They turned back to look at her. Feirn raised her eyebrows and said honestly, "I don't know what I am."

"What?"

"How can you not know?"

"Well," she started, bringing one leg up to rest her elbow on the knee. "I was abandoned by my parents when I was born so I never knew what or who they were. Nor do I know my family heritage. I often thought I was human, but living this long and still only looking as though I am five and thirty, it has become less of a thought. Perhaps my parents were Man and Dwarf, or Hobbit and Man or even Elf and Man, or Elf and Dwarf," They scowled at this, "So I do not know. Nor do I care all that much."

"How can you not care?" asked Ori softly, peering at his brothers, trying not to think about never knowing them or knowing of them.

"I have lived a long life, little one," she said gently, looking down and away from his sorrowful face. "I care not for the people who left me behind. Their lives have never impacted mine, not even to the far reaches of Elves or Man so they most likely meant little to the world, and so I have tried not to dwell on it.

"Gandalf found me in a human village as a child and knew I was not one of them so he guided me every now and again, helping me to travel and learn from different races but I have never found any of my own. So I stopped trying. I am sorry if that disappoints you," she said sincerely, smiling briefly at the young Dwarf. Ori shook his head and mustered an apologetic smile before scribbling something in his book.

"Why is your hair so short?" Fili asked, trying to bring the topic back to something pleasant.

"Ah, well! Um..." she looked to the sky in some embarrassment. "I may have gotten drunk and lost a bet by a very vindictive an equally drunk friend of mine," she looked to Vala wryly, "and instead of getting someone else to do it, I did it myself... while I was still drunk."

"That was shortly before being turned into a dog so it's stayed that way!" Vala laughed.

"What bet did you lose?" Dwalin asked, narrowing his eyes and looking as though her answer would be the test he would judge her worthiness on.

"That I could drink ten mugs of ale and do a handstand."

"Doesn't sound so bad," said Bombur.

"She's not very good at them when sober so it was a lost cause to begin with," Vala said, ever helpful.

They began to laugh and Ferin smiled sheepishly, scratching tugging at her uneven hair before leaning back to rest against the wall.

They asked her a few more silly questions, mainly about her adventures as a dog which started their own conversations about silly games and jokes played on their friends and families.

Ferin enjoyed it for a while but drifted off a bit and glanced around. She stopped when she met Thorin's eye across the fire. He kept a carefully neutral face but she could see something burning behind that gaze and she could not hold her smile. He quietly asked the question he seemed to have been thinking about since she had been turned back.

"What wrong did you commit to turn you into that creature?"

It was such a precise question. Like he knew the answer already, and the thought that he might gave Ferin pause. A slight feeling of fear crept into her heart and tightened so severely she felt like she couldn't breathe.

Everyone quieted and even Gandalf looked on in interest, having not heard the entire story himself. He'd not been there, and neither had Vala. They'd only heard the brief impression of a story she had told them; that she had stumbled across a witch, angered her in some way and was unfairly treated to a distasteful spell.

But that had not been the truth.

Ferin looked away from the Dwarf Prince's steely regard, looking into the fire instead to calm her nerves. She chewed the inside of her cheek and plucked at an invisible thread on her loose leggings.

"I was drinking –" Thorin's scoff interrupted and she didn't have to look at him to know he was rolling his eyes. "I was drinking," she continued, frowning and forcing herself to ignore him, "in a human village. I wasn't in a terribly good mood and had heard talk of a Witch passing through. She was good at fortune telling and had a secret reputation for helping those in need, should they be worthy. I thought I might be for a fleeting moment but it was enough to convince me to try.

"After hearing the whispers and after a night of heavy indulgence I sought her out." She paused and looked up to Vala, trying to communicate how remorseful she was. "I am sorry, my friend but I was desperate."

Vala frowned, concerned. "Ferin, you could have come with me, travelled with me. Gods, I wouldn't have left you if I'd known."

Ferin shook her head dismissively, never blaming Vala. "It was never your fault. I could not burden you with my sorrow, my anger and I had much of both..."

"Ferin..."

"No. I sought her out," she said forcefully, willing herself to continue, clenching her fists to focus. "I asked her to do a reading and she did. She told me that if I continued on this path I would bring nothing but ruin to the people I cared for but I thought, "What more ruin could I bring? I have done so much damage as it is." So I argued with her and she told me that if I did not change my ways, if I did not stop wallowing in my own remorse than I would die alone, half mad with grief, having turned on my friends.

"I begged her... _begged her _to change it, to change my fate but she said only I could do that. But I continued in my ire, pulling at her and pleading with her and embarrassing myself with my inebriation until she'd had enough. And then there was a light and when I woke up I was a dog and I was so _angry _and frightened and I didn't know what to do, so I looked for her, ran as far as my legs would carry me, and I hated her and I hated myself and I _burned _with it, _ached _with it... and then I found Gandalf and he helped me, and then I found you and I got used to it. I got used to not being able to talk to people, to being alone, to feeling alone... I got used to thinking I would never be the same..."

Ferin tapered off as the weight of her tale drained her, pulled the spirit out of her and she leaned her head back against the wall, face towards the vast expanse of glittering sky. Her body could not support her so she sagged a bit, letting go, not minding the tears gathering at her jaw line for she was just so tired...

"I am sorry," she whispered, falling asleep where she sat, between the two brothers and across from the stunned and horrified company. There was a long, tense silence but then each one shifted and turned away, silently turning in for the night, having no more desire for talk and merriment.

Gandalf closed his eyes, his pipe having snuffed out and Vala took a shaky breath, turning to her bedroll but unable to sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Ferin woke to find herself squashed between the two brothers with Vala standing over her. There was no time for thoughts or embarrassment from the night before as Vala bent forward and grabbed Ferin by the arms, dragging her to her feet.

"Right," she started firmly, crossing her arms and frowning heavily. "I knew I shouldn't have left you on your own. You brood like the world is going to end the next day!"

The others were starting to stir but Vala continued and Ferin couldn't think of anything to say, mind still sluggish from sleep. She was not a morning person like Vala and never would be.

"I've gotten your effects and you're going to get dressed and kitted up and I'm going to run you ragged until you get back into shape! None of this wallowing shite. I want my friend back even if I have to pull the self-pity out of you by the bollocks."

The burly woman turned and grabbed a bundle of cloth and weaponry behind her that Ferin hadn't noticed and shoved into her chest. Ferin reflexively grabbed it, mind still blank, and blinked at her friend unmoving.

Everyone was up and about now, curiously watching the exchange as they got ready for breakfast and were shocked to see Vala slip her axe out of her belt, turn it broadside and strike Ferin on her backside.

"Move it!"

"Ouch! Bloody – Ow! Stop doing hitting me with – Ah! That one hurt!"

"Tough, get moving!"

And so Ferin moved, dressed and followed Vala to a nearby grassy area where she stretched and warmed up before being forced to run with her two swords strapped to her back, chain mail over her tunic and her worn dark blue coat covering it all bar the swords. A dagger strapped to her thigh and one stuffed in her boot was the last of her weapons, having always preferred short range combat.

She hadn't worn this many layers since before she was a dog and it was hard going. Every time she slowed, Vala gave her a thump or a whack or a knock with the flat side of her axe or tree branch or her open palm; whatever she could find on their route throughout Imladris.

They passed the camp on the balcony several times, forcing Ferin to tackle stairs until her legs wanted to collapse and Fili and Kili often joined in, jogging in circles around her, looking at ease with the exercise and laughing at her as she panted and growled and threatened them to just leave her alone.

This continued for several days, but eventually her lungs started to cope, her legs became stronger and her endurance increased. Her body hadn't forgotten how to work and Vala knew how to push her to her limits and then just a bit farther. After the run, they sparred, Ferin slowly getting used to having her swords as extensions of her arms, thrusting and parrying and twisting a until it was almost second nature once more.

She was by no means back to her old self before she'd started drinking away her sorrows several years before, but she was getting there. Sometimes Balin sparred with her while Vala tackled Dwalin, Ferin enjoying seeing her friend happy for a change with partner equal in strength and endurance as herself. By nightfall, they camped with the Dwarves and shared stories and battle wounds and songs (mostly Vala) and bonding slowly through snippets of shared pieces of themselves to establish some trust that would have to endure throughout their journey.

One day, in the late evening, Thorin arrived to the grassy area, watching Ferin and Vala spar without weapons; using fists and legs and body to take the other one down, Ferin using her speed over Vala's brute strength. Their armour and weaponry were put to one side, the women simply willing to enjoy the game.

Vala, having enjoyed having her friend returned to her over the last week, managed to get Ferin in a headlock to give her a vigorous knuckle rub.

"Oh you horrid – stop that! Ouch! Get off!"

Vala laughed before yelping as Ferin pinched the inside of her thigh. She let go and they called it a truce, laughing as they rubbed their sore bits.

When Vala spotted Thorin, she raised her eyebrows in surprise, seeing the Prince was looking for a bit of a fight by the look on his face.

"I think you have a new competitor," Vala said lowly, nodding her head in his direction.

Ferin looked over and assessed the brooding Dwarf. He stood in a relaxed posture, leaning against a part of a passageway wall that ran along one side of the area. He had a bit of a dark look about him but it wasn't as intimidating as it could have been had he been wearing his armour. It had been a bit of a warm day and he was dressed in leggings, his boots, a tunic and belt, his new Elvish sword, Ocrist strapped to his side.

Vala left, passing Thorin to join the others.

They eyed each other for a few minutes and when he didn't move or speak, Ferin took a determined breath and picked up one of her swords, flexing and turning it with a loose wrist, offering a silent challenge.

He moved then, stepping forward and unsheathing Ocrist, stopping when he faced her. When he did not move once more, Ferin took the initiative, bringing up her blade to bear down across his chest, but at half the speed she would give a real enemy. He blocked it with the same speed and they began a slow spar, counter, attack, step, parry, counter, step, attack and then something picked up the pace and continued to do so, their breathing becoming just a bit heavier.

He struck quickly, turning his wrist and guiding the blade in a sharp arch that would have sliced across her neck had she not reared back. Now it began to get serious. Heavier blows, stronger attacks, more rapid dodges and parries, the metal clanging and sparking slightly.

"This is your best effort?" he asked, breathing a little laboured but not affecting his strokes. A particularly strong downward blow forced Ferin to block awkwardly and she had to force herself to twist around, exposing her back for the briefest of moments before spinning away from his next stab, forcing another awkward block to shove the tip of the blade away from her stomach.

"Not even close," she snapped in response, lunging to drive him away from her, allowing space for her to collect herself.

"I will not allow you to travel with my men." He stepped quickly away and to the side to try another angle.

Ferin scowled. "And why is that, my Prince?" she growled sarcastically.

He bared his teeth and countered her attack. "I cannot have a self-pitying drunkard endangering our journey. I have no trust in your skills, nor a need for them."

"A self-pitying dru – Oh, you – you bloody Dwarf!"

"You are weak and quick to anger and I will not allow it! It is bad enough the Hobbit travels with us; I do not need a mutt as well. You will only be a liability."

She shouted and expletive in a language he didn't know but he easily dodged her angry lunge, moving aside to allow her weight to carry her past him. She spun and just managed to block him but he pushed her backward with a few well place strikes.

"I have no sympathy for you. Your stories my sway my kin but your tales only tell me of your foolishness!"

"How dare you," she said darkly. "You know nothing of me."

"I know more than you think. I have heard of the woman warrior who wields twin blades. One who bears a scar like yours. A traitor who knows no honour." With that statement her arm went slack and he disarmed her, the blade flicked to the side to land with a thump in the grass.

Darkness had fallen now, the lamps in the nearby passageways were the only glow aside from the sliver of moonlight and he could see her shock that he should know such a thing.

"You did not think I would find out about whom I travel with?" he asked seriously, stepping back and lowering his sword. "I have travelled far and learned many things in my lifetime. Whispered truths and fearful stories. I know you were foolish enough to allow your feelings to interfere with protecting your faction of soldiers and you betrayed them, leaving them to die. How do I know you will not do the same again?"

Ferin could only stand there, shaking uncontrollably. _That's not true! _she thought. _Lies, all of it! All of it! How dare he! How _dare _he!_

Thorin lowered Ocrist and scowled at her. He would never allow her to be near his kin, nor his home. There was no place she deserved to be for what she'd done. Her scar was the mark of a traitor, he knew, a terrible warning to all that this woman should be ostracised from those around her. Nothing good could come of knowing her as she would only turn on you when opportunity arose. He turned away and headed to the passageway to join the others, satisfied of putting her in her place. He should never have listened to Gandalf.

He didn't expect a loud howl, nor did he expect to be tackled by a charging Ferin. They fell to the grass, Ocrist flying out of his hand and then another battle begun.

She struck him hard across the face in her rage several times before he shoved her off and returned the favour. They rolled and pulled and yanked and punched and struck each other, roaring and screaming and shouting. She kneed him in the side and it was like hitting a wall; her knee flared white hot and he shouted in pain, the back of his hand sweeping up to strike her across the cheek but she forced him down again, attempting to straddle his waist to bring a fist to his throat but he flipped her quickly, pinning her arms and thumping her into the ground. She brought up her knee once more and a firm blow to the groin had him rolling off her and she hauled herself up to bring both her her hands down onto his shoulder, forcing him down to his stomach. He roared and turned, elbowing her in the knee, driving it to the side.

She screamed bloody murder but he wrapped his arms about her waist and crushed the air out of her lungs. She panicked and bit into the juncture of his jaw, _hard_ and he let go to shove her away and as they went for each other again numerous pairs of hands grabbed and snagged on their clothing and pulled them away, kicking and cursing.

"Put more effort into it lads or they'll kill each other!" came Balin's authoritive voice as he directed Fili, Kili and Bofur to restrain Ferin while Dwalin, Bombur and Bifur hauled Thorin away.

* * *

Ferin hissed when Vala slapped an herb-soaked cloth to her eye, the cold compress trying, in vain, to help with the swelling. Her lip was split, her nose covered in dry blood and her knee was _killing _her. Not to mention the bruised ribs and lump on the back of her head.

Thorin fared no better, grunting as Balin, none too gently, slapped a similar compress onto Thorins eye before he applied a small salve to the deep bite to his jaw.

Both Vala and Balin stood over them after they had done their best and glared like scolding parents and Ferin and Thorin couldn't help but feel like chastised, disgruntled children.

"I'm not entirely sure what's gone on," began Balin, folding his arms and shaking his head. "But pull yourselves together! We don't need this hostility right now. We need rest and good companionship. So fix this yourselves, or I'll have to intervene."

Vala said nothing, but Ferin understood her expression. She was disappointed but not surprised. Whatever had made Ferin do this must have been grave, but instead of acting rationally, she'd done the opposite.

"Fix it," she said lowly.

Ferin looked away, but not before pointing to two more thick compresses near a pale of ice water. Vala brought the pale and cloth over and then she and Balin left them to sit on a bench on a balcony overlooking the valley.

The silence was loud but Ferin ignored it, seeing Thorin hunch forward out of the corner of her eye. They were both in pain; split lips, bruises and cuts, wrenched knees and throbbing groins.

She snorted and chuckled. Throbbing groins indeed. She saw Thorin look at her but instead of returning it or explaining what she found so ridiculously amusing, she bent forward and soaked the remaining cloths, ringing them out. She pulled up the leg of her loose trousers (thank Aule they were loose!) and winced when she placed the cold cloth to her rapidly swelling knee.

Removing the compress on her eye and putting it aside, she picked up and rung out the second cloth before turning to hand it to Thorin. He frowned in confusion, looking as intimidating as a wet tunic that had been beaten on a rock. She flicked her eyes to his groin but he either didn't catch the movement or didn't understand what she was referring to.

She sighed, rolled her eyes and unceremoniously placed it between his legs, the cold water soaking into his trousers. "Ah!" he gasped, startled by her bold move and the sheer coldness of the cloth.

Ferin smirked and tended to her own injuries, allowing Thorin to lose a bit of his manliness without further ridicule.

After a few moments of silence, she looked down at her feet and spoke softly. "The whispered rumours and stories you hear about me are untrue. I did, indeed, let my feelings blind me but it was I who was betrayed. I have regretted it ever since but that is all I will say about it at this time."

He didn't respond straight away, choosing instead to refresh his cloth before replacing it on his groin, having given up n propriety for the moment because it bloody hurt!

"You have a good left hook," he said eventually.

She smiled slightly. "You have a damn strong bear hug."

"I've never had anyone bite me in a fight before."

"I've never had someone who could flip me with one hand like I weighed nothing."

A moment of silence before, "Good knee."

Ferin started laughing, her bruised ribs protesting. "Good elbow," she responded, patting said knee. He chuckled, leaning back a bit on the bench and adjusting the cloth on his eye, his other hand holding the colder one to his groin so it didn't fall.

Ferin continued to smile, feeling sore but satisfied and relaxed.

And so a tentative truce was made, the worn out warriors nursing their wounds and talking about the fight they'd just had like it was a battle they'd fought together.


	6. Regret

**A/N: Well, I can only hope you enjoy this. Where I ended it seemed natural so I apologise if it is frustrating. I have started back in college today so something may interrupt my writing a little bit but I am enjoying it so I should be quick enough for updates.**

**Thank you as always to my followers and reviewers:**

**Mania-Is-Bliss: I spaz out myself sometimes when I see updates for the stories I follow as well. You're not alone there but thank you so much!**

**MugglebornPrincesa: Well, I was hoping to make people think that and then be surprised when they didn't. I think it may have come across as too cliché had I gone there but I think the fight was much more satisfying!**

**BattiBeff: I'm glad you're enjoying it! I always like depth to my characters! It's more fun! Love the name by the way.**

**LilthLieLoveHeart: Tomboyish years are the best! I haven't left mine behind entirely but I like to express it in my characters. Fun times!**

**Jinx248: I'm glad you're enjoying it! Hope you find this one interesting as well!**

**On with the show!**

**Blue x**

* * *

_The abnormal wind rushed through the streets of Dale, the large shadow of the beast running along the earth and over buildings. The people screamed, the beast roared and the fire curled and licked and destroyed._

_In a shop near the outskirts, a younger Ferin was trying to coax a child from beneath a table. The little dwarfling boy was crying out for his mother, clutching the wooden leg with all his might._

"_We have to leave little one! Please!"_

_The noise and chaos outside was deafening but Ferin _could not leave_. _

"_Come! The beast will return back this way. Please! We must get to safety!"_

_The little boy, full head of curled hair and no higher than her knee finally uncurled. He threw himself at her legs but the beast had returned. Its mighty tail struck the roof, the mortar and wood collapsing on top of them both. After a minute or two, Ferin tried to assess their situation, her mind working at as rapid a pace as she could manage in her pain and shock. _

_Where was the boy?_

_And then she spotted it. A little hand near hers, the only part of him exposed under all the debris, half curled and unmoving._

_She knew immediately he could not have survived._

_Her heart tore. Eyes wet and tears streaking into the dust on her cheeks, Ferin reached out for the little hand. 'I am sorry, little one,' she thought, and just as her fingers brushed his, a segment of beam fell and pinned her arm, the dragon's fire alight on the wood and burning her skin. She screamed._

Ferin gasped, sitting up quickly and clutching her forearm, feeling as though the skin had been freshly burned by dragon fire once more. Sweat marred her brow and upper body, the tunic clinging uncomfortably to the skin of her back.

She'd thought that nightmare long buried.

"Ferin?" Vala sat up next to her friend, groggy from sleep but alarmed.

It was early morning, the sun not yet touching the sky, but everyone was moving about quietly, preparing for their departure.

"You alright, lass?" Bofur asked kindly. Ferin could not stop the blossoming pain in her heart as she looked at his gentle face. She did not deserve his concern. She'd let the boy die.

Closing her eyes tight she choked on a sob, curling in on herself and burying her fingers in her hair. "I'm sorry, I _tried, _I'm so sorry," she whispered continuously.

"What could have upset you so?" Balin asked, walking quickly to the younger woman and crouching beside her. He laid a heavy hand on her shoulder.

Ferin took a death breath, tensed and then let go, her hands falling from her hair to rest over her bent knees. "I am sorry."

"It must be a terrible nightmare to apologise so much," Balin mused, smiling kindly at her. "Your apologies are unneeded. You have done nothing to us."

Ferin could not bring her gaze to meet his. Instead she looked at her arm, running calloused fingers over the puckered flesh. She had never even known the child's name nor who he had belonged to. How terrible it must have been to look for your child among the mass of migrants, never knowing his little body was buried and lost in the place he called home.

"My apologies are for those I have failed Mister Balin."

"Does that hurt?" Bilbo asked cautiously, the Hobbit having woken unnoticed. He was a quiet thing, she mused, smiling sadly in response.

"I think it hurts more from memory, my friend. Dragon fire is a living thing in itself. Those burned by it, often feel its sting long after it has healed."

A pregnant silence overcame the group. Everyone stared.

Thorin's voice came at last. "You... you were there?"

"I was," she answered softly. "I tried to save as many as I could. My last attempt ended in the death of a small Dwarf boy. The roof collapsed upon us and he was buried. When I left the building, a useless arm could not aid me in rescuing others so I forged on, urging people away."

"Is that why you travel with us?" asked Dwalin roughly, his scowl fierce and unforgiving. "You seek the gold left there?"

Ferin frowned. What? Had she not just said she had tried to help?

"You seek to claim part of our home?" Thorin asked accusingly.

Ferin could only stare in shock. Is that what they thought of her? Even after their tentative truce?

The days of stilted, but progressive conversation in the last week had brought hope to Ferin that they could be, at least, tolerant companions if not friends. She had thought he had believed her when she had told him that she had been the one betrayed, that the whispered rumours of her person were not true. They had been doing well, had they not?

Obviously not, by the look on his face.

Ferin stood, mind strangely empty; collecting her effects in silence and pulling on her boots, she hooked the straps of her sheathed swords onto one shoulder, coat draped over her burned forearm. She turned towards Thorin and moved to walk past him in order to get ready for their secretive departure, pausing and looking down on him on his bedroll. He had made no effort to speak not to rise to her challenging posture.

Ferin tried to keep her expression and voice as neutral as possible, affecting a blank, professional look of one warrior to another.

"Think what you will of me, Thorin Oakenshield. I do not care for your gold or your home. My services are to protect you and your kin and I give you my word that I will do just that and no more." Turning to address the others, she closed off as much of her emotions as she could, looking at the Dwarves she had thought she could call friends. "I will meet you at the beginning of the path when you are all ready."

With that Ferin spun on her heel and strode away to ready herself. For a small two weeks, she had thought she had found companionship. It had been so long since someone had looked past her scars and her history; past the reputation she had gained through lies and slander. She had felt accepted.

In her foolishness, she had forgotten how quick to judge others were. He had no proof that he could trust her and small truce aside (which seemed to mean nothing now), what had he learned of her in this small time that could have made him understand? Nothing.

And although Ferin didn't believe some of the others shared Thorin's feelings about her, they would listen to their Prince... their King. He would tell them of her, of what he had learned. He would make them understand why he chose to deal with her the way he did. Why they could not trust her.

She would be displaced again, lost in a world with no friends bar Vala and no home to claim for her own, no family to live on and remember her. She loved Vala dearly but she had grown fond of the others and Ferin would not deprive her of companionship as well. Ferin didn't know how much longer she would live for but she had a feeling she would outlive Vala by natural means.

But sometimes... sometimes she felt so old, so tired, and often hoped that age would catch up to her. She hoped she would fade and no longer feel the pain of living the life she lived; wandering the world only to have to world turn its back on her.

* * *

They arrived quietly, she noted in satisfaction, leaving the Elves unaware of their departure. Bilbo often turned his head to look at Imladris as they moved upward and Ferin often had to give him a gentle push for him to pick up his pace. It wouldn't be long before they realised they had gone.

When they crossed the threshold of rock that marked the end of the path, Ferin moved to keep a fair distance behind, away from the others and to take a vantage point for protection from the rear. The land opened out around them, dry grasslands that allowed a view of the Misty Mountains. Ferin was not eager to walk this path but it was the only way and Gandalf had said he would meet them there to accompany them across.

The last time she had been in this mountain had been an unpleasant one but she forced her thoughts to the lands surrounding them, eyes sharp for danger.

Vala was ahead, walking with Bilbo and Bofur, glancing back at her friend every now and then. She chose to ignore it. When they moved upward once more, the grasslands were replaced by sharp rock, hard on the feet but a better vantage point.

After several hours of walking, the company eager to put as much distance between them and the Elves, Ferin noticed Vala talking with Thorin and Balin, all three changing their positions to allow Dwalin to lead as they discussed something. Balin was gesturing and patting Thorin on the shoulder, glancing back in Ferin's direction as Vala had done earlier. Thorin shook his head, his shoulders tense and Vala took up the gesturing.

Ferin had had enough. Moving quickly, she easily caught up to the three and Balin and Vala ceased speaking immediately, trying to look innocent. Ferin growled. "I know you are discussing something to do with me and I dislike your gesturing. Stop it and move on, Vala."

"Me?"

"Yes you. I know you're telling them things that are not yours to tell."

Vala scoffed, waving dismissively. "Don't be so – "

"Move!" Ferin gave Vala's shoulder a shove and Vala scowled.

"Ah, lassie," Balin started, "I wish to apologise for earlier this morning. This journey can be tires – "

"Your apologies are unneeded Mister Balin," Ferin said shortly. "It is I who should apologise. I should not have expected us to be more than strangers. Returning to my normal self had clouded my mind; I have neglected the duties that were assigned to me by Gandalf. I will not do so again."

Ferin moved on but Vala wasn't finished. Before she could get too far, she spoke, "Ferin, you can't just close yourself off again."

"I am not."

"You are! Don't be afraid to care for others. I know you were hurt before but a lot of these men wish to be your friend. Don't go back to the way you were!"

"I am no different."

"Yes, you've always been the cold bitch everyone makes you out to be," Vala said sarcastically, oblivious to Balin and Thorin's continued presence, as well as the closing in of the others as the path changed.

"Exactly," Ferin responded, rolling her eyes in frustration. "Why shouldn't I be the person everyone thinks I am? It makes no difference if I am kind or if I help them or if I walk around with a Goblin skull on my belt."

"But you can still try! You are not yet dead that you cannot change their mind."

"They see what they want to see!" she shouted in frustration, stopping abruptly when they came to a steeper pathway along the mountain path and turning to face them all; for all stood before her, listening but trying not to listen. "They see a traitors scar! They see what they hear! A woman who betrayed her friends; ones she had called family.

"What more should I do, Vala! Should I pierce my heart with a blade and open my chest? Let people see the monstrous heart that beats like theirs? One that has been broken beyond repair? I could bare my soul and no one would care. They would spit on it and laugh and leave me to bleed to death."

Ferin was breathing as if she'd run from Smaug himself. Vala looked grief-stricken and it made Ferin deflate a little. "It does not matter what I have done or what I do," she explained carefully, willing her friend to understand. "I will be accepted nowhere and have known this before I even met you, before you were even born. The Ferin you knew that was happy was drunk all the time. We will finish this journey and I will leave you to your life. You should be around me no longer."

Ferin looked away, catching the darkened gaze of Thorin before looking down. She did not wish to understand the thoughts buried under his disinterested expression. She turned and they began to make their way up the mountainside, no one knowing what to say.

She missed Vala's determined scowl and muttered curse. "You won't get rid of me that easily, you daft woman."

* * *

The rain stung their skin like daggers of ice. It struck swiftly and unmercifully before crawling into their clothes and soaking them to the bone. Ferin's hands felt raw and numb at the same time, the rock tearing at her skin but she dared not let go.

The thunder bellowed and the lightening nearly blinded her with every flash. She could barely hear Thorin's shouts to hold on and nearly witnessed Bilbo's brush with death as he lost his balance. Thank the Gods Dwalin had quick reflexes.

"We must find shelter!" Thorin shouted but it was forgotten with Dwalin's cry of "MORTAR!"

A boulder so large it couldn't be called a boulder sailed through the air before striking the mountainside above them. It shattered and rock rained down upon them, the company pushing themselves into the wall as much as they could.

"This is no thunderstorm! It's a _thunder battle_!" yelled Balin. "Look!"

Ferin would never be able to explain the sheer weight of what happened next. How could she ever begin to explain that a mountainous figure forged of rock pulled itself away from the mountainside as if it had been fused to it like welded metal? The creature wrenched a boulder from his perch to hurl it at another giant, the crack of stone and stone echoing over the rainfall. The creature fell and they all scrabbled for purchase as the very rock beneath them began to shift.

"Kili! Grab my hand!" Fili cried desperately as the brothers were pulled apart. Ferin just managed to grab Kili's cloak before he overbalanced in his effort to reach his brother. Ferin could only watch in despair as Vala was separated from her. There was a grinding of stone and a haunting cry above them, a stone giant waking to join the game.

He was knocked back by another before he was even standing, his head crushed on one side, his body falling backwards where it crashed into the mountain. Ferin scrabbled for purchase as they tilted, the giants knee swinging towards another ledge with a sharp jerk when it connected. Thorin made a leap to the ledge, the others following and Ferin shoved Kili ahead of her, just managing to jump to it herself before the giant stood once more.

"Vala!"

But they could only watch as the colossal beasts swung at each other, the rest of the company hanging on for their lives. It wasn't long before another stone figure hurled a boulder, knocking off the head of the giant their friends were stranded on.

Ferin felt useless and prayed to whoever would listen that they would make it.

The creature buckled having lost his head, his knee bending and heading for the rock face by herself and the others. The crash made Ferin's heart drop and she ran forward by Thorin, gripping his arm and shoulder from behind in her effort to see the others.

"No!" he cried and she gripped him tighter.

_Don't let them be – _

They ran forward and to their enormous relief, they had all survived.

But then Bilbo was missing before being found, hanging over the cliff. It was Thorin who helped him up but with no small amount of displeasure. Unkind words were said without thought and then they were moving into the shelter of a small cave.

Ferin didn't know what to say to the little Hobbit, unsure whether her council was welcomed or valuable. She had never seemed to overcome judgment and prejudice, so what could she say that would ease his worries?

The cave was checked, the bedrolls were laid out and everyone settled for an uneasy night. Ferin found herself situated across from Thorin. He faced her but was asleep. Ferin could only stare at him for a while, sitting in the sand, knees bent and elbows resting on them.

Her hair was flattened slightly for a change, she noted, tugging absently on the wet strands. There was a chill in the air but little could be done.

A small nudge on her boot made her look down. Vala's foot rested by her ankle and looking up to see her friend's face, she saw she was awake and watching her silently. The larger woman smiled gently, nudging her ankle again and Ferin knew that she had taken no offence to their earlier spat. She reached down and squeezed her calf fondly, patting it, and Vala nodded once before turning her head away to rest.

She had accepted her apology.

Sleeping was difficult but Ferin tried, stretching out and placing her booted feet upon the rock where Thorin slept, the soles of her boots nearly touching his shins. A few minutes later, Ferin pretended to doze when she felt the Hobbit silently step over her form. When he passed, only to be caught by a watchful Bofur, she opened her eyes to see Thorin listening to their conversation. She couldn't really place his expression but thought it might be bordering on regret. For what, she wasn't sure. Perhaps regret that he hadn't tried harder to deter the dragon from their home, or regret that he was not strong enough to make his people a home they could call home.

Who knew but regret was a feeling she knew well.

Just as she thought this, he looked up and started slightly at being caught out. They kept their eyes locked for a moment, but each did not express anything for the other. They simply stared as if trying to see past the walls but could not...

...but then the strangest sensation of sand slipping from under her fingers gave her pause. She frowned and she could see his terrible realisation on his face before he shot up to see that the sand was indeed slipping from under her fingers and a crack began running across the floor.

"Wake up!" He roared. "Wake up!"

Everyone jolted awake but it was too late. The floor opened up beneath them and they were swallowed into the darkness.


	7. Fear

**A/N: Well, here we are. I'm not sure if I'm happy with the ending, it's a little stilted compared to the middle but I was eager to get it out. I may edit it another time. **

**I hope you enjoy it regardless and thank you as always to my followers and reviewers:**

**BattiBeff: I do indeed like the name! And the scenes I chose are mostly from the movie and the book combined so hopefully, it'll continue to be a surprise but since I'm getting to the end of the first movie instalment, I'll be referring to the book from now on.**

**MugglebornPrincesa: I'm glad you're liking the story! The Dwarves are stubborn indeed but most don't feel as Thorin does but what can you do to please your King but follow his moods.**

**LilithLieLoveheart: I try to be as natural as possible to the endings of the chapters as if I continue into another, you'll be reading one page for the entire story! I'll try to keep them less cliffhanger-ish but I don't know if I'll succeed!**

**Samolfran: I hope you are enjoying what has happened since you last read it!**

**Anneaa: I'm glad you like it! I can only hope you keep liking it!**

**On with the show!**

**Blue x**

* * *

Ferin felt the impact of the stone tunnel jar her ribs. They turned and slid and knocked off each other before flying through an opening into a metal contraption shaped like a gory fly trap.

She didn't know who was on her; they were bloody heavy and it was hard to breath but there was no time to shove them off before there were screeches and howls and little hands and grabbing fingers clawing at them, lifting them and carrying them away with screeches of delight and menace.

_No, _she thought. _Not them, not again!_ But there was no escape despite her struggle and there was only a fleeting thought for the others in her panic. Small, gnarled hands gripped and twisted her knee and pulled her arms and no matter how she resisted and kicked, her feet didn't touch the ground, her hands could find no purchase. A fly in a spider's web, she thought.

_But we had taken a different path!_ _The Goblins shouldn't have known they were there. Why had they changed the traps?_

Ferin growled and kicked and twisted again, panic curling in her gut. _Please, anything but this. _She couldn't go through this again but they pushed and shoved and pinched, moving them along walkways and bridges until they finally arrived to a large platform where the Goblin King sat, basking in his audience's appreciation.

Ferin shouted and pulled away from the little wretches but they held her and stripped her of her weapons; one particularly greedy Goblin sneaking off to the side to examine her swords without the hoard of his comrades crowding him.

The Goblin King quickly moved off his throne, squashing his subjects that served as a living step, leaning forward and eyeing them all intensely. "Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom," he growled. "Spies? Thieves? Assassins!?"

"Dwarves, your malevolence," one Goblin said promptly, dipping his head towards his King.

"Dwarves?" he replied incredulously.

"Found them on the front porch."

"Well don't just stand there! Search them!" He pointed a large finger at them all. "Every crack! Every crevasse!"

"Get your damn little hands out of my crevasses!" Vala shouted, giving a heavy boot to the creatures face. He yelped and backed away but others took his place to continue searching for weapons or things of interest. Dwalin tried to aid her but he was surrounded soon as well.

Ferin ignored the little hands; there was not much to do about it now. She could only hunch down and gaze at the ground. _Be as small as possible,_ her mind whispered. _He has not seen you yet._

It was cowardice, she knew, but was helpless to stop it.

The chaos quieted after a few moments and the King spoke once more. His jowls swung and he gazed at them suspiciously. "What are you doing in these parts?"

No one answered.

"Speak!"

Again, nothing. "Very well," he said, shaking his finger at them before turning to entertain his audience. "If they will not talk, then we'll make them _squawk_! Bring up the Mangler! Bring up the _Bone Breaker!_"

He turned back to the Dwarves and eyed Ori gleefully. "Start with the youngest."

"Wait!" Thorin shouted roughly, making his way to the front and facing the Goblin King. Ferin felt her heart drop. _No you fool, don't draw his attention to you! He will take what is not yours to give! He will destroy you and your kin!_

She struggled in vain against the little creatures, trying to reach out and pull him back but they pressed closer, tightened their grip.

"Well, well, well," the King said mockingly, taking a step back to admire his sudden, delightful find. "Look who it is. Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror; King Under the Mountain." His chin wobbled grotesquely when he bowed in false respect.

Thorin said nothing thankfully, holding his stance and remaining composed.

"Oh! But I'm forgetting! You don't _have a mountain._ And you're not a King, which makes you... nobody, really."

They gazed at each other for an infinitesimal moment and Ferin thought quickly. This wasn't going to end well. Thorin's known presence meant nothing more to the Goblin King than entertainment. He would torture him and his kin for as long as they could take it before disposing of them. How would they get out? What could she do?

The King's expression changed; one of realisation and greed came upon him and he voiced his new and delightful thought. "I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head... Just a head," he clarified with amusement. "Nothing attached. Perhaps you know of whom I speak."

Ferin could not see Thorin's face but the tenseness of his shoulders gave him away.

"An old enemy of yours..."

No. It couldn't be.

"A pale Orc, astride a white Warg."

"Azog the Defiler was destroyed," Thorin said severely. "He was slain in battle, long ago!"

"So you think his defiling days are done, do you?" he giggled manically. "Send word to the pale Orc," he told a little Goblin on a swinging chair by his throne. "Tell him, I have found his prize."

The little thing chuckled and after finishing his missive, he turned into the swing of the chair while it glided away down a darkened tunnel.

"I think I'm going to have fun with all of you, and I'll start with you, mighty King under the Mountain!" The large Goblin chuckled, glancing eagerly at them all. He smiled, his crooked teeth rank and blackened with decay.

Amidst the cries and cheers and the Goblin King's laughter, they all heard the rumbling of the torture devices making their way through the network of tunnels.

Some of the larger Goblins, still no higher than Thorin, rushed forward to grab him, pulling him forward to isolate him from the rest. Thorin struggled and so did the others, cursing and shoving and kicking but to no avail.

Ferin closed her eyes. There was no other choice. They were going to hate her but there was no way to explain what she had to do. She shoved her way determinedly forward, arriving at Vala's shoulder. A soft hand on her friends back was the only thing to reassure her it was the right thing to do. She had to buy them time and she was the only one who could.

"I'm going to do something very stupid," she murmured and Vala jerked her head to look at her. "I'm sorry."

Before Vala could answer, Ferin pushed her way through the Goblins and Dwarves, snarling and threatening the desperate creatures who got in her way. When she reached Thorin, a swift kick to one of the creature's arms broke the appendage and he howled. She roared at the others over the din and they backed away quickly.

The cavern quieted and the King paused. Stepping closer, he leaned forward and Ferin had to discreetly hold her breath at the smell. He squinted, reached forward and lightly touched the scar on her temple. After a moment he began to laugh; a hearty, mocking, disbelieving laugh. Standing straighter he clutched his great belly and pointed at her as if she was a joke.

Ferin stood her ground, trying her hardest to not allow her heart to burst out of her chest. Thorin moved behind her. She didn't turn. She _couldn't._ He would hate her.

"You – you – " the Goblin King stuttered in his amusement. After several minutes of this he calmed, waving at his subjects to do the same. "_You,_" he smiled. "Oh, I thought I'd never see you again. What a delightful surprise. And what _are_ you doing here, my dear? I thought I'd seen the last of you after that little... _incident _we had. How is your lover boy, then? Off cavorting with whores instead of you?"

"No," she replied, voice steady, hands clenched. _Stay your hand. Keep control._ "He is long dead."

"Oh? Surely not," the disgusting beast said, clutching a gnarled and greasy hand over his heart with mock remorse. "But he was such a clever man. I gave him his reward. Did he did not buy his own protection?"

"He did," she agreed. "They died with him."

"Ah, so revenge had led you to escape from me and seek him out. Tell me details! Did they kill him slowly for what he did to you and your kin?"

"_I _killed him swiftly. It was more than he deserved." And it was but she hadn't been able to bring herself to torture him. That night had been one of profound regret and no matter what he had done, torture had never come easy to her. If she had followed through on her original plan to prolong the man's death, she would not have been able to live with herself.

"How disappointing," the King drawled, standing haughtily and adjusting the grip on his staff. "Why is it that you are here then?"

Ferin hesitated, looking down to the floor and forcing herself to look contrite. "I had nothing left after him... so I chose to live by his ways. My bitterness has run too deep and I no longer care..." she swept a hand back across the others, not daring to turn and face them. "I have brought these Dwarves to you, to garner safe passage through your mountain, if you would let me."

The uproar from the Dwarves was loud and the pure fury she felt from behind her felt like a physical burn on her neck. _Traitor. Bitch. Her plan all along. We shouldn't have trusted her! Betrayer._

Vala's voice, the only one supportive and pleading for her friend was lost in the noise.

The Goblins laughed.

Ferin grit her teeth and squeezed her fists so tightly the nails cut into her palm. _Focus the pain, the regret; focus on your hate for that wretched beast in front of you and his filthy race!_ _Hate them. Hate them all!_

A tight grip on her arm forced her to turn sharply and she lashed out immediately, shoving Thorin off her and back towards the others. "Know your place, Dwarf!" she growled. There was a split second of eye contact and the look on his face...

She turned away, feeling the bile creeping up her throat when the Goblins laughed again at her treatment of the King who was not a King. "Will you allow it?" she asked of the Goblin leader.

He paced and hummed and grumbled before stopping to stare at her, not looking convinced. "Why should I believe you?"

"You should not," she agreed. "But why else would I be here? I had no desire to come back to this place, why would I do so now?"

"Hmm, that is true, I suppose. Where do you go?"

"I do not know. I only know that I am no longer welcome where I reside with this mark I bare, so I seek a new home, far away from this land."

The King chuckled, leaning forward once more to touch her scar. Ferin held her ground, not withholding the disgust on her face. Behind them, the large machines of torture where finally near, the rolling, thundering wheels placing strain on the wooden walkways and lesser Goblins backs.

"I remember fondly, the moment he gave you that scar. You looked so betrayed and it was delicious! You were on the Bone Breaker were you not? Oh yes, I will grant you your request," he said, moving away from her again. "But I will do so after I have my _fun_. Your screams were lovely when your limbs stretched!"

He laughed and stomped and began a song. His audience of subjects joined in as they torture devices finally reached the platform.

Ferin was grabbed roughly and dragged towards the horrible machine.

Someone was screaming, "_No! Please, no! I beg of you!"_ It wasn't until her voice was hoarse, that Ferin realised it had been her own pleas. This was backfiring spectacularly.

The machine loomed large and ominous and she would never forget the pain of the last time she had been here. Days and days of pulling and cutting and whipping and stabbing and _breaking_... She had nearly lost her mind. In the midst of her first session of torture, the man who'd betrayed her had laughed and carved the traitors mark in her flesh before leaving with his prize of gold and trinkets.

He'd led her faction of guards through the mountain, their intended destination a village on the other side needing protection. He'd led them to a trap and had forced Ferin to watch them be tortured and murdered in cold blood before her. All for gold and trinkets.

The only thought to keep her sane was that she would find him and kill him. And she had. After several days she had slipped away from the Goblin's clutches, her memory hazy as to how she had done it without detection, but she had been free and there had been pain but underneath it burned a rage so hot, she had wondered how it hadn't burned her alive.

And now to go through it again...

No. It would break her.

Her saving grace came in the form of a screaming Goblin and a clatter of metal as Ocrist was found and cast away like a red hot poker. The Goblin King reared back and scrambled onto his throne.

"I know that sword!" he cried, pointing at the gleaming metal. "It is the Goblin Cleaver! The Biter! The blade that sliced a thousand necks." The Goblins around him shouted and moved away from it, angrily lashing out at the Dwarves for their daring to bring such a weapon into their kingdom. "Lash them! Kill them! Kill them all!"

They grabbed whichever ones were near, falling upon them in their fear and duty to their King.

"_Cut off his head!_"

Ferin could only watch in horror as they swarmed upon Thorin, holding him down. One brought up a sharpened bone, ready to arc down to spill the Dwarf King's blood but a flash of blinding light flared through the cavern, stunning all who saw it.

Ferin shakily stood and almost wept in relief to see Gandalf. "Take up arms," he ordered. "Fight. Fight!"

The Dwarves, renewed by their ally, surged up and grabbed their weapons. The Goblins retaliated, swelling forward in their numbers to overwhelm the Wizard but Gandalf was not deterred. He struck and sliced through all who tried him and the Goblin King cowered on his throne. "He wields the Foe Hammer! The Beater! Bright as daylight!"

Before Ferin could move for her swords, she was rushed by the vile creatures. She kicked and struck out with her fists and though they were forced away, more came. A sharp pain flared in her back as one drove a large bone knife down her shoulder blade, the skin tearing unmercifully. A thrust of an elbow to his nose jerked his head back and he was lost to the swarm of his brethren.

She needed her swords!

And suddenly Thorin was there, hacking through the Goblins surrounding her before he tossed her exactly what she needed. A quick look was shared, no more than a second but Ferin couldn't interpret it. There was no time.

"Thorin!" came Kili's cry and Thorin turned just in time to deflect the Kings staff. It bounced, the recoil throwing him off balance. The creature fell, taking some of his subjects with him.

Both blades on hand now, Ferin wasted no time in slashing her way through the throng.

"Follow me," Gandalf said. "Quick!" He moved away without waiting for a response. They followed without question to an empty bridge that led to another part of the mountain. The walkways were numerous, like a spider's web and Ferin tried not to look at the sheer amount of Goblins that flowed towards them from every direction.

Her lungs burned and her legs strained but still she ran, finding herself beside Vala near the middle of their line of fleeing warriors.

"Are you alright?" Vala shouted breathlessly.

"I'm fine," she responded, quickly sidestepping and slicing through a Goblin in their path. Up ahead, Dwalin was bringing down several of the blighters as he tried to clear a path. A loud roar and he cut a rope holding part of the hand rail, his fellows aiding him in using it like a battering ram.

When they burst through that group, another took its place. Several dropped from above but had already been beaten by Gandalf and some of the others. It was never ending.

A few meters, more Goblins slain and the two groups met up again to continue; slashing, thumping and shoving the creatures off the walkway. Another short tunnel. Another section of walkway. More Goblins.

Ferin was tiring, leaping over fallen Goblins and swiping her blades in arcs and jabs, adding kicks to those who just wouldn't go down; her body was giving up. Hands slick from her own blood and others, she forged on through the haze.

They heard a cry and looked to see another group ready to swing to aid their brethren.

"Cut the ropes!" Thorin cried. Ferin did without thinking and the section they were on tilted slightly as another part fell away, tangling in the swinging ropes and deterring the creatures. They moved on and the archers came forward. Several missed their mark but one struck Vala in the shoulder and before Ferin could say anything, her friend surged forward with a cry and shouted to move on, that it was only a flesh wound.

Kili and some of the others forced the Goblins back with a ladder, the same ladder creating a bridge across a large gap. Ferin thought this was getting a bit out of hand. It got worse. They came to a gap too large to cross.

But the Goblins cut the rope and they were suddenly swinging.

"Oh for Aule's sake!" she cried, slashing her blade across a creatures neck before doing the same to another. "This is getting a bit ridiculous!"

They swayed back and forth twice before they could all manage to leap to the other side, cutting off the Goblins from behind and on they went. They split up again before rejoining, Bombur nearly drowning in Goblins as they crawled all over him.

And then Gandalf used his magic to separate a large boulder from its skin of stone on the mountain above them, Dwalin and Thorin guiding it down the pathway to crush anything in its path before they turned and continued down another way.

They could see it then, the way out! The last bridge before the sturdier stone passageway that would lead them to daylight!

Ferin cursed harshly when the Goblin King erupted from underneath them, blocking their way.

"You thought you could escape me?" He growled and lashed out at Gandalf with his staff. "What are you going to do now, _Wizard_?"

It was fairly anticlimactic, Ferin thought later, seeing Gandalf step forward, poke the King in the eye and slice his blade across his gullet.

"That'll do it," the Goblin King said, sounding fairly reasonable about the whole business, before Gandalf ran the same blade across his neck. The Goblin King collapsed.

Unfortunately his weight disturbed the last of the sturdy beams holding their section above a large crevasse. There was a creak and whine and they fell.

Ferin's stomach flipped and dropped with the fall, her feet losing their traction on the wood. She skidded into Gandalf before falling into Thorin. He grabbed her, leaning sharply into the angle before the wood scraped along the rock, righting itself. They jolted and slid and slowed a bit before an almighty crash pinned them between the layers of wood they'd accumulated on the way down, miraculously intact, if a bit bruised.

Gandalf stood and brushed himself off and Ferin concentrated on breathing before looking for a way out.

"Well that could've been worse," Bofur said before the Goblin Kings body landed on them with a bone jolting crash.

They all groaned and Dwalin growled. "You've got to be joking!"

"Bofur?" Ferin said, heaving herself out with the aid of Gandalf. "You're a wanker."

He grinned through the pain and they all began to dig themselves out. Ferin helped Vala and the two women were brushing themselves off when Kili's loud yell alerted them to the swarming Goblins charging towards them. The sound was like clicking beetles and howling winds as they neared. Without a King, there was nothing to stop them.

"There's too many! We can't fight them," Dwalin said, helping to get his comrades on their feet as quickly as possible.

"Only one thing will save us!" Gandalf said, his fear almost palpable. "Daylight! On your feet!"

They ran through the tunnels, Goblins hot on their heels and soon they saw the daylight streaming through an opening ahead. Gandalf stopped at the exit and urged them on, making sure all got through. They emerged out into a forest and blundered down the hill as quickly as their legs could carry them until they were a safe distance away. They slowed, Ferin nearly rolling the rest of the way when her legs threatened to give out on her. Instead she leaned back, swords pointed down to the earth and slid to a stop on the side of one leg, the other providing more traction.

There were a few minutes of quiet and Ferin used it to catch her breath, Vala leaning forward on her knees beside her doing the same. Ferin trembled with the adrenaline but after a few minutes, her shoulder began to burn. The strain of fighting had only aggravated it further and she could feel the sweat and blood soaking through her tunic and coat.

"Are you alright?"

Ferin looked up to her friend. "I am fine," she panted, quickly looking her over. The arrow was nowhere to be seen. "And you?"

Vala smiled, turning her shoulder to allow Ferin to see a large gash across the muscle where her shoulder and neck met. "Flesh wound. As I said."

"Where is Bilbo?" Gandalf asked worriedly. "Where is our Hobbit?"

No one could answer.

"Where is our Hobbit!?"

They looked around. He was not with them. "Curse the Halfling!" someone growled. "Now he's lost?"

"I thought he was with Dori!"

"Don't blame me!"

"Well where did you last see him?" the Wizard asked, frowning and stepping forward.

"I think I saw him slip away when they first collared us," Nori offered, happy to give the information.

"What happened exactly? Tell me!"

"I'll tell you what happened," Thorin said accusingly, moving to be seen clearly by all. "Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it. "He's thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm hearth the moment he stepped out of his door. We will not be seeing our Hobbit again. He is long gone."

That was untrue, thought Ferin, scowling at the Dwarf. How could he make such accusations? Who didn't think of home and all its comforts? Did Thorin not think of Erebor? Isn't that why he was on this journey? They were unkind words. For all they knew, Bilbo could have been captured and left behind. Gods above, he could have been left there to be pulled apart by those vile things!

Ferin went to stand, to go back when Bilbo appeared. "No. He isn't," he said simply, facing them all. Bofur sighed in relief, smiling happily.

"Bilbo Baggins," Gandalf laughed. "I've never been so glad to see anyone in my life."

"We'd given you up," Kili said in disbelief.

"How on earth did you get past the Goblins?" Fili asked.

"How, indeed?" Dwalin said suspiciously. Bilbo laughed it off and placed his hands in his pockets.

"Well, what does it matter?" Gandalf said, smiling and dismissing it quickly. "He's back."

"It matters," Thorin said quietly. "I want to know... why did you come back?"

Bilbo looked at him for a moment, looking like he had seen Thorin, had _really _seen him for the first time; a man trying his best to get home.

"Look I know you doubt me. I – I know you always have. And you're right, I often think of Bag End," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "I miss my books. And my armchair and my garden. See, that's where I belong. That's home." He paused and looked at the others. "And that's why I came back. Because you don't have one. A home. It was taken from you. But I will help you take it back if I can."

The others said nothing, realising that this little Hobbit who could have left for home had not abandoned them; he had in fact, fought for his life to remain by their side to help them finish their journey. It was a sobering but warm thought all the same. It was a hope they had not known they had lost in the grisly caves of the Goblins.

Ferin smiled and stood, twisting her stiffened body to and fro, before putting both blades in one hand to approach Bilbo. She smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "Well done, my friend."

A howl rent the air. They tensed.

"Out of the frying pan."

"And into the fire," the Wizard said. "Run. _Run_!"

Exhausted, they pushed themselves to do as Gandalf said, rushing through the trees and over rocks. The Wargs caught up quickly, picking out targets and rushing them only to be fought off; hammers to the head and arrows to the neck, swords slicing at their legs and paws as they growled and snapped at their pray.

Vala rushed a Warg that banked to the right to block Ferin from moving forward. Between the two of them, it was defeated quickly but they could move no further for they were cut off by a cliff edge.

"Up into the trees! Quickly, all of you! Come on, climb! Bilbo, climb!"

Ferin leapt up the last tree near the very edge, jamming her swords into the wood before hanging down by her legs to help others up. Vala gripped her arms and ran up the trunk, easily slipping by and climbing higher. Dori was next and Ferin had to swing him up. Then Ori. Gandalf had made his own way up and the others had found trees of their own. Ferin swung up just as she spotted Bilbo, the last to climb, find purchase in the nearest tree.

And there, between the branches and on a flat rock, strode a white Warg with the pale Orc.

He began to speak softly in his terrible language and Ferin could only make out parts of it, having never desired to learn it. But she understood Thorin's name and the mocking tone with it. He said something else and then he gave a battle cry, giving his permission for his own to attack.

The Wargs charged and leapt at them, scraping the bark as they growled and snapped but they could not get high enough to reach them. The trees rocked and jolted, nearly knocking some of the Dwarves off. What could they do?

More came and the trees could only take so much. They began to tilt and break, their roots tearing from the earth. One after the other, they crashed into their neighbour, the Dwarves and Hobbit leaping to the next one and the next.

Bilbo leapt towards Vala and she caught him mid air, his weight easily lifted to her branch. The others followed suit and Ferin found herself reaching for a falling Thorin. His weight wrenched her shoulder and she yelled with the pain, straining to hold him. Screaming through it, she pulled him up until he could get purchase of his own.

They were truly trapped now. There was nowhere else to go and Azog knew it.

But then that genius of a Wizard threw a lit pinecone down towards the mutts. He lit and tossed more down to the others, each one lighting more before chucking them to the forest floor. Several Wargs were set alight and the leaves and dry twigs caught and burned, driving them away.

It was a short lived victory as the tree began to shift under them, losing its tentative grip on the soil. They began to fall towards the edge, some slipping off their branches to hang precariously over the vast expanse of land many miles beneath them.

Ferin clung to her branch, fingers digging into the bark, Thorin hanging beside her. With a mighty heave, he pulled himself up but he didn't reach down to help her, too focused on Azog in the distance.

_You've got to be joking, _she thought, growling in the back of her throat. _You absolute fu – _

He stood, taking up his sword to walk forward and challenge his enemy.

"If he survives that," she said to no one in particular. "I'm going to kill him myself."

Ferin muttered some more before hearing Dori's yell. He and Ori were hanging by Gandalf's staff so she made herself move. Ignoring the pain of her shoulder, Ferin heaved her body onto the branch, glaring at Thorin as he faced his assured death. The bastard.

They were all exhausted and bruised and cut up and he was running off to face that creature. Her anger fuelled her and she braced herself against the fire surrounding them to move along the trunk, taking up her own blades, shoulder burning, legs aching and head pounding.

The Warg got him first, leaping off the rock to knock him to his back. The beast turned sharply, rounding on him again and Azog clipped him heavily with his mace on the return.

The others cried out behind her, Dwalin calling for his fallen friend but unable to go to his aid as the branch broke under him. Bilbo stood, silhouetted in the fire in front of her and she could see the great white beast wrap his crushing jaws around Thorin. She wouldn't get there on time, not with her body refusing to move any faster.

The bastard was going to die!

A loud yell and Thorin sliced the beast on the nose, the Warg releasing him to sail through the air. Another Orc joined Azog and after a brief word he slipped off his Warg and moved towards the fallen King, blade unleashed.

Ferin ran, blades ready but Bilbo got there first. Little Bilbo! He screamed and stabbed and panted before facing Azog alone.

Not if she could help it. A new feeling burned in her, protectiveness for her Hobbit friend, and Ferin roared, charging down the trunk and into the fire. The others followed suit, energy renewed by the Hobbits bravery and they swarmed Azog and his Wargs.

But it wasn't enough. Bilbo had fallen, knocked aside by an Orc and Azog stalked towards him on his white beast.

And oh, if Ferin could describe the feeling she had when the Eagles came. It was like being born again. They swooped and screeched, driving off the Wargs and toppling trees. Some fanned the flames and others bravely grabbed the Warg beasts to drop them over the edge.

Ferin was shoved backwards by one of the beasts only to fall off the edge to land on one of the magnificent birds. Quickly placing her blades into the back of her coat for safe keeping, having lost her scabbards back in the Goblin Kingdom, she grabbed hold of the soft feathers.

"Do not worry little one," her Eagle said to her over the chaos. "You are safe." He banked left and circled back around to grasp another of their companions before moving off once more. Once all were safe and travelling by bird, Ferin looked sharply over to Thorin when Fili cried out for their uncle.

He was unconscious, hanging limply in the great birds talons.

"You better not be dead, you bloody Dwarf," she muttered, unable to muster the energy for a new or better insult.

"Things have a way of turning out for the better in times of need, little one," her Eagle said sagely, drifting in the warm updraft created by the sunrise. Beating his wings several times he eased into a gentle turn to bring her near his companion who carried Throrin. "He breathes for the moment. Do not upset yourself more until we land. It is a fair journey into the morn yet before we reach the Eyrie."

Ferin's grip on the Eagles feathers slackened when he said Thorin was breathing and her head pounded from grinding her teeth and frowning. When she reached up to rub her temple, her cheeks were wet.

By the Gods, he'd made her cry! He'd run off into battle with his enemy, left her dangling over the edge of a cliff and _he'd_ made _her_ cry.

The bastard.


	8. Rest

**A/N: Well hello again! Didn't think I'd get this up so soon. It's a little intermission between fights and major scenarios and the like. I think it needed it and poor Ferin needed a rest.**

**This is primarily interaction between Thorin and Ferin. If you don't agree with the pace, I'm happy with that, but I promise you, sometimes pacing out things is not necessary as sometimes, you just need a little connection with someone.**

**Thank you as always to my followers and reviewers:**

**LilithLieLoveHeart: I'm glad you liked it. It was fun to write the last bit and I can only hope you enjoy this one too.**

**MugglebornPrincesa: I think you might find your moment here. Not as aggressive as you where probably expecting but here all the same!**

**Beautiful-Bird-Avenger99: I'm very glad you are enjoying it, my dear!**

**Forge on!**

**Blue xx**

* * *

The sun pierced the sky on the horizon, the air not yet warm from its rays. They travelled with ease over the land and waterfalls, gliding and swooping in their journey to safety. When they finally broke passed a mountain ridge, the land opened out into a large valley, a carrack within the heart of the surrounding mountain peaks.

The Eagles gathered together in tighter formation, banking into the wind and circling. The first to set down was the one carrying Thorin; the Eagle did so gently before taking flight once more to allow the others room to do the same.

Thorin did not move.

The Lord of the Eagles quickly turned and set down to allow Gandalf to embark. The Wizard rushed to the Dwarf King.

"Thorin!"

Ferin's fingers were cramped, her muscles stiff and sore. Her Eagle landed carefully on the edge of the rock, careful not to dislodge any of the others. Ferin slid down its shoulder but the height allowed gravity to take her and the impact of sudden hard rock on her feet caused her legs to buckle and give out.

The Eagle that had carried her (Ferin felt guilty to have never learned its name), released Vala, whom he'd been holding in his talons. Vala stood beside her, watching Gandalf attend to Thorin. She didn't seem to notice Ferin sitting on the rock surface, or that she was unable to stand.

But the Eagle had perceived her situation and gently nudged her with his dangerous looking beak. "Be safe, little one. I hope we meet again in better circumstances. Be well."

The great bird stood taller, spreading his wings and taking off with the softness of a feather in the wind.

Staring blankly at the smaller form of the creature as he circled with his companions, Ferin could only start at the commotion nearby.

"You. What were you doing?" Thorin panted at an alarmed Bilbo. "You nearly got yourself killed. Did I not say that you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the wild?" he asked, stepping forward. Bilbo seemed to deflate a bit, trying his best to stand his ground.

The Hobbit had been brave, braver than perhaps he'd ever been in his entire life and Thorin was reprimanding him in front of the others.

"And you had no place amongst us?"

Ferin scowled, head still pounding and hands still shaking from all that had occurred. Her body was beginning to shut down but the thing that kept her focused enough not to pass out was that the Hobbit had saved his miserable, bitter life and he was already up and grinding the spirit out of him.

Bilbo looked hurt and contrite. Thorin allowed all of this to penetrate the little mans mind before releasing a breath or relief. "I have never been so wrong."

To say Ferin was stunned when the miserable git of a Dwarf King hugged him was an understatement.

She was going to kill him.

The emotional upheaval of the last few weeks was enough to drive any woman insane and Ferin felt she was well on her way there. So infuriated was she, that she missed the sentimental moment unfold between the Dwarves and Hobbit and could only see the faint dots of the departing Eagles as they went on their way out of the corner of her eye. She also missed seeing Erebor in the distance, the lonely peak bringing hope to the company once more.

She just sat miserable, sore and exhausted. And so very pissed off with the lot of them.

After a few minutes had passed, Ferin got the distinct feeling she was being watched. Warily looking toward the group, she found them all staring at her bar Dwalin, who towered by her side.

There was a tense silence and Ferin blinked at the rough male mountain of muscle and ink. "You're not going to shove me over the side, are you?" she asked carefully. "That would be really inconvenient since I managed to survive up until now."

He snorted and rolled his eyes before he thrust a hand out to her. It was calloused and filthy and sturdy and Ferin's mind stuttered for a moment. Why was he willing to help her up? Shouldn't he be shouting and growling and trying to kill her for what she had done?

Impatient at her wandering mind, he gripped her coat and pulled her up much like Vala often did but her legs couldn't support her. Luckily (Ferin debated this word later), the two young Dwarf brothers came to her aid quickly and flanked either side, each holding an arm for support.

They smiled. Ferin was suspicious.

"We always liked you, you know?" Kili began.

"Very much so," Fili continued. "We were angry with you though."

"For your stunt in the Goblin Kingdom, you understand."

"Nasty business, trying to trade us off."

"But we'll forgive you!"

"Of course! Clever thing you did, you know."

"Wouldn't have known what you were doing if it wasn't for Bilbo and Uncle."

"The Trolls, if you remember?"

"Of course she doesn't remember, Fili. She was unconscious. And a dog."

"Oh, that's right."

Ferin was going to be ill from the back and forth chatter.

"Uncle Thorin realised what you were doing though, and warned us off."

"Ease up on her Kili, Fili," Balin said carefully, stepping forward. Oin frowned at her green-tinged face and Ori stepped back out of the line of fire should she throw up.

"No need to feel like that, lass," Bofur commented worriedly, thinking her wanting to throw up was to do with them being so harsh to her. "We do forgive you for it, honest."

The others murmured agreement; even Dwalin gave a short, sharp nod.

"We'll make it up to you," Dori smiled, thinking of the many teas he could brew. Tea was his speciality. Nori beside him was thinking of teaching her some of his secretive thieving tricks. She seemed like the sort to appreciate light fingers for amusement. The others thought of similar things but Ferin was too busy trying to hold in the contents of her stomach, which weren't much, considering they hadn't eaten properly in a few days.

Bilbo moved towards her and canted his head to look at her expression carefully. Thorin was behind him quick enough and they exchanged a glance.

"You look as terrible as I feel," Thorin said sincerely, amusement shining in his dark eyes.

Ferin gave him a look, still held aloft by his sister-sons and his mouth quirked to one side. It wasn't quite a smile but it was close.

"We'll need to make camp at the bottom, I think," Gandalf mused, already making his way to the pathway of rough steps the circled down the carrack.

Some of the others followed and the young brothers attempted to steer her in the correct direction. They wouldn't fit with the width of three and Ferin had no desire to walk pressed against one of them and the rock wall or one of them and the path edge. Her shoulder was sore enough and the brothers pressing and wrenching her around was not helpful.

And the chatter. Good holy mother of –

"I'll be fine under my own power," she said amicably (quickly), gently slipping from their grasp and patting them on the arm in turn. "Go on ahead. I'll take my time."

They moved to argue but Thorin encouraged them on, taking a place of a barrier between her and them.

"Thank you," she murmured, sidestepping to allow Bilbo to catch up to Bofur. Thorin nodded, and she noted his deliberate slow pace in front of her as they walked ever downward.

After half an hour they had made it half way and Ferin could feel her muscles loosening a bit, her stomach settling and her head easing into a softer rhythm than the banging drum it had been higher up. The air was better here, crisper in the shadows of the rock.

She stumbled on a jutting edge but caught herself on Thorin's shoulders. He tensed and coughed to hide a grunt of pain but Ferin heard it.

"This seems familiar."

He was of course, referring to the time she had been returned to her own self and clinging to him when they took the passage to Imladris. Far from making her amused, as he seemed to be, Ferin frowned and took a pace beside him, the path widening out as they neared the bottom.

"I don't think it is fair that you are making light of it," she said softly, using the distraction of where to put her feet to avoid his stare.

A heavy hand came upon her shoulder, his intention to say something, she thought, but he had placed it inadvertently on her wound. The burn was intense, almost forcing her to her knees.

"I apologise," he said hastily, removing his hand immediately. "I was unaware of your injury."

Ferin concentrated on breathing for a moment, clutching at her upper arm as if to stave off the pain further down, before replying, "It is fine. I will clean it when we reach the bottom and set up camp." She looked at him, noticing for the first time that his deliberate slow pace may not have been for her alone. "I have a feeling you will have to do the same."

"I believe I will," he agreed. And then an awkward silence descended on the two for the remainder of the path.

* * *

Setting up camp was a simple affair, having lost most of their provisions in the Goblin Kingdom. They had chosen to press close to the rock wall in a clearing, the trees at the base of the carrack shielding them nicely. To the left, some fifty feet or so away there was a stream and once they had made bedding out of grass and their coats or furs, a fire was made and Bombur (having miraculously managed to keep one of his pots) made stew from a few rabbits Kili had caught.

Gandalf had ventured off to find some friend of his and would return in the morning, so for now, they were safe enough.

In the time of finding a spot for herself, Ferin had been approached by each Dwarf in turn with offers of forgiveness. Well, that's what she deduced it was. Some of them were a bit odd.

"Can I help you with your bed?" asked a cheeky Fili, who got a smack on the back of the head by a passing Dwalin. He sheepishly moved away.

"Can I offer you a tea?" Dori asked next, smiling hopefully with his hands on his hips.

"Um..." Ferin wasn't a huge tea drinker. Ale was a favourite but what was she to say? "That will do nicely, Master Dori. Thank you. Um, perhaps I will have it after I bathe in the river."

He had seemed pleased and had insisted on her calling him by just his name. She had agreed. Just as she was fixing her torn coat into a more comfortable arrangement, Bifur and Bofur stood by her.

"Would a story and some music interest you later this evening, my fair lady?" Bofur asked cheerfully, his flute twisting eagerly in his fingers. Bifur signed and growled something in his own way and Bofur translated. "He wants to make you something. He's very handy with a knife."

"That's... very kind. I would be appreciative of whatever you would like to give." Bofur smiled, Bifur grunted and they turned away, heads pressed close to discuss whatever it was they wanted to discuss.

Ferin paused in her arranging, a little overwhelmed. This was a lot of attention in a very short amount of time, especially after the strained relationship with all so far.

In ensuing half hour it took for Ferin to make her bed, remove her weaponry and to make her preparations to bathe and clean her wound, Ori had come to offer his services as a scribe ("I would like to tell your story!") and to sketch her likeness so all would remember her, Nori had offered his teachings to be a thief and flautist and Bombur his teachings of some of his favourite dishes.

Dwalin... well, Dwalin offered to think of an appropriate tattoo and eyed her burned forearm critically. Refusing, she thought, would probably be offensive and Ferin didn't see her chances as fair against the brute, burly Dwarf.

Kili offered to show off his archery skills and it took several minutes of biting her lip and hiding her expression to calm her amusement. When she thought she was sufficiently composed, Ferin cleared her throat. "That is very nice of you, Kili but I am already impressed by your skill. You have killed many a rabbit, Goblin, Warg and Orc in our journey and I would ask for no more."

Kili seemed to inflate in happiness with that, striding off in confidence to tell his older brother of her praise. Ferin smiled.

Oin's offer was to leave her in peace, the grumpy Dwarf happier at this for his own sake as for hers. Gloin attempted to offer a sharing of stories with her by the fire later, his hands stroking his beard. When he began to talk of his son, Balin came to her rescue and she accepted his unofficial offer of being a deterrent to the talkative Dwarf.

Vala approached her, laying out her furs on the grass just so beside Ferin's and Ferin watched her fondly, knowing her friend was keeping her head down intentionally, avoiding looking at a certain Dwarf in particular across the camp.

This continued for several minutes until Ferin sighed, smiling. "You don't have to do that, you know?"

"Hmm? Do what?"

"I am not wanting for company. Keep company of whoever you desire, Vala."

Vala looked up in shock, freezing in her arrangement of a grassy pillow. Ferin laughed softly, rolling her eyes.

"I am not blind, my friend. If you wish to keep Dwalin company, I will not stop you," she murmured discreetly. "If it is mutual, I am happy for you and all I wish is for you to be happy."

"I... "

Ferin looked at her closely. "It is mutual?"

Vala looked down before glancing at the Dwarf across the fire. "I am unsure. He seems to but... there has been a fair amount of conflict. And I want to kill him sometimes."

Ferin had never seen her friend so unsure. "I think, perhaps, you should talk to his brother. Balin may be able to offer some advice. I think there is only one time in our lives that we truly feel for another. I believe it is always worth trying."

Vala blinked, stood and embraced her friend. Ferin winced at the pressure but patted her friend on a thick shoulder. "Go on then."

Vala released her and quickly gathered her things to choose another place closer to Balin and Dwalin.

Ferin sighed, finally free of everyone. She could finally bathe.

The sun was still high enough, telling of the waning afternoon and Ferin ventured off into the trees, letting Bilbo and Bofur know where she was going when she passed them. The Hobbit looked more relaxed now; sitting on a rock and listening to Bofur tell stories.

Having nothing to bring with her bar the clothes on her back, Ferin didn't think to call out to make sure anyone else was by the stream so when she emerged from the trees, she found not only the small stream but Thorin as well. He was carefully tugging off his shirt but was obviously struggling with the pain of his wounds.

Thinking only to aid him, she stepped forward and helped, ignoring his sudden tense posture. His head was hidden in the body of the shirt so he could not have known who it was so his expression was wary when it was revealed.

Folding the shirt carefully as if it wasn't in need of a thorough wash, Ferin eyed his expression with a raised eyebrow.

"You didn't think to call for help?"

He grunted, clenching his fists at his side, conscious of the fact that he was naked from the waist up. "I was doing fine. I did not need help and I can tend to my own wounds."

Ferin's eyes travelled from his face to the wounds without pausing in between. He had a large gash from his side and across his belly and several puncture wounds; one on his right shoulder, one on his upper arm and one on his thigh. "Right..." she said, and it was drawn out and unerringly sarcastic.

He frowned and gestured to her shoulder. "And you were to fix your own?"

Ah. Well, she thought, opening her mouth to retaliate but nothing came forth. She released a blustering sigh after several attempts. "Fine. So we are at a bit of an impasse then."

"It would appear so."

A moment of silence. "Aid each other?" he asked at last.

"That will work," she agreed. "We'll start with you since you seem to be worse off. And you're half undressed anyway."

Ferin bent forward and took off her boots, the grass cool on her bare feet. She placed them to one side and tore at the material at the bottom of her leggings; the material there the least dirty of all of her clothes. When she stood straighter, she glanced at him.

He was blushing. Honestly _blushing_.

Rosy skin on his cheeks and beneath his beard... her eyebrows shot up and she stared at him. For a moment she thought he was simply flushed but he could not meet her eye and stood stiffly where she had left him. Definitely blushing. But why?

_Tact_, she thought. _Tact_. "Um, I'll just soak these in the water. I need to clean my hands anyway. Perhaps you should sit? Over there, on that tree trunk." She gestured to a small stub of trunk with its roots left in the ground. It made a nice stool and he must have thought so too for he moved to it and sat without question.

Not saying anything further, she turned and tried to scrub as much dirt as she could from her hands and nails and then dipped the cloth in to soak in the cold water. It was refreshing and brought up the desire to strip and bathe. The filth and grim and grit was starting to rub her skin raw and she smelled terrible. They all did.

When the cloth was sufficiently sodden, Ferin stood and moved to his side, perching herself on a rock that was slightly lower than the trunk. Looking up without moving her head, she said, "This will probably hurt, but I will have to clean it. Mahal knows what those beasts have in their mouths."

Again he said nothing, keeping his gaze to the water when she finally looked at his torso. He was well muscled; a strong thick chest and abdomen. His posture and anxiety practically screamed _tightly controlled, don't touch me_ but she ignored it.

His chest was lightly furred with hair, which Ferin thought unusual considering his cohorts, and a trail of it ran down the middle to the edge of his own leggings. A heat rose to her cheeks and a tingle ran from her hairline down to a more intimate area.

She let out a surprised laugh at herself before covering her mouth when he jerked his head towards her. "I am sorry!" she said quickly, a smile still on her features. "I am laughing at myself."

He frowned, looking sceptical and uncomfortable. Again he was silent. Why?

Ferin leaned forward to clean the large gash, the blood marring the surrounding skin. It had stopped bleeding but looked severe and while she worked to wash most of it away and to carefully clean the edges of the torn flesh, she spoke. "I apologise if I sounded offensive. I truly was not laughing at you. It has been a long time since I have desired another and you are a fine example of a warrior and man."

It was truthful and she could see no other alternative to her explanation but again, he blushed and didn't seem to know where to look. Surprised, she had to ask. "Why do you blush so? I only speak the truth."

He cleared his throat; gaze out on the water once more. "You are bold with your words. I am unused to such attention from another." It was spoken quickly and roughly, a reluctant explanation given on the heels of embarrassment.

She smiled. "Ah! Well..." She supposed his travels and anger over having lost his home had isolated him from companionship. She had been the same. Unsure as to how to continue, Ferin finished cleaning his abdomen. It was not as bad as she had first thought. There was no infection and with careful attention it would heal. Thank Aule for his armour.

She got up and cleaned the cloth before returning to attend his arm and shoulder. "I would wish you would not restrict yourself so," she began lightly. "I am only bold because being painfully shy has never gotten me anywhere."

"You were shy?"

She laughed at his disbelieving tone. "I was! I used to hide behind my mother's skirts and when I was older and she had long passed from this earth, I used to hide behind my _own_ clothing. Dreadfully frumpy cardigans and scarves! The horror of the memory! I find shyness and propriety a waste in my old age now. I gain nothing from it and many miss out on wondrous things because of it.

"For instance," she said, gripping his arm to hold it steady. It was twice as thick as her hand and pure muscle. Like his sister-sons and his friend Dwalin, Thorin seemed to wish to keep as trim and strong a figure as possible, unlike his comfortable, rotund companions.

She could also see him looking at her from the corner of her eye, braver now that her focus was elsewhere.

"I was quite fond of a boy my age long ago and I had heard rumour that he had liked me. He fancied my lovely long hair and my fine scarves and even my shy nature." Ferin shook her head at the memory; of youthful ignorance and naivety. He hissed when she swiped the puncture, again not as deep as she had first thought like the other. His shoulder was barely a scratch so she had dismissed it with a firm swipe. It would heal on its own.

"What happened with this boy then?"

Ferin smiled sadly, flicking her eyes up to see that he was genuinely interested, if a bit put out by his own curiosity. Kings were not supposed to care for this sort of story but it was a nice distraction from the pain.

"It was a cruel joke, I'm afraid. The other tweens had let me hear a false rumour but I had already worked up the courage to talk to him. He was cruel; called me terrible names and pushed me away in front of others. He told me that I was not worth knowing and they all found great amusement in it."

Thorin frowned. "That is heartless."

"Such is the world of children," she sighed.

Ferin stood once more to rinse the cloth and when she returned, he had a small pot of poultice in his hand. One of Oins. She took that for the delay it was. The last wound on his thigh would be a challenge she was sure but they had gone this far now... she wondered if he would go further.

The salve was placed with ease onto his arm but he tensed when she went for his stomach. She sighed. "Stop squirming."

He looked affronted. "I do not squirm."

"Of course you don't your Royal Highness. It's more of a wriggle."

"I don't wriggle."

"Then you fidget. It's alright, it happens to the best of us."

"Cease your mocking."

"I'm teasing, not mocking. Lighten your mood. You did so with Bilbo, and I would ask you to do the same with me."

He huffed and turned his head away and she found her opportunity to put on the salve. Satisfied she wiped her hands clean and retrieved another sodden cloth.

"I owe you an apology," he said softly, his earlier annoyance forgotten. "I have treated you poorly. I should not have been so quick to judge you."

"Well, I agree but it does happen to the best of us," she dismissed, having thought long and hard about it on the journey by Eagle. "And I am old enough now to realise this. Apology accepted. Now, pants off."

He shot an alarmed look at her and she burst out laughing. It took several minutes before she could calm herself and she looked up to find him regarding her with a tolerant expression, similar to the ones he gave his sister-sons.

"It's only fair," she said, smiling. "You'll be helping me with my shoulder."

He consented reluctantly, standing and unlacing his breeches. Ferin turned away to gather the soaked cloth she had dropped in her merriment, giving him whatever privacy she could. He was sitting, hands almost casually draped across his lap over his smallclothes, leggings pulled to his knees.

Feirn hissed in sympathy at the wound, much larger then she had surmised from the tear in the clothing. She set to cleaning it, valiantly trying to ignore his thick, haired thighs.

And they were indeed, magnificent. It should be wicked to have thighs like that, she thought, smiling.

"Now you blush."

"I do. I'm trying to ignore your lovely thighs."

He barked a surprised laugh. "I am thrown again by your words."

Ferin grinned, not looking up from the wound.

"I'm glad. Pleasant surprises are hard to come by these days."

"You are terrible."

"I am perfectly charming, thank you. In my own way."

"How do you speak with such ease? Have you no shame?"

"Bah! Shame is for the young. Surely you have spoken as such to family, close friends or lovers, no? It is enjoyable to have such few inhibitions as manners."

Thorin had lost some of his apprehension, his posture more relaxed while she tended to him. "I have not," he admitted. "I have had little time or inclination to jest in such a manner. A King is not..."

"Not what? Allowed to have fun?"

He sighed, staring at the grass. "In a way, yes. How would that look to others? I am not – " he stopped himself when he glanced at her attentive face, clamping his lips shut, his expression closing off. Ferin could see him realising who he was talking to.

"Don't do that," she said softly, absently stroking her thumb across the skin of his thigh. "Please."

_Don't close yourself off to me_, she thought. _Everyone always does_. When she had been a drunk many years ago, people would often mistake her for someone to drink with and talk to, a friendly face and an open ear. But then they spotted her scar. The sobering thought of who she was. And she was suddenly cut off from human contact.

She had started to believe that she could regain that loss with this company but this reaction was beginning to bring back painful memories of walking through towns and villages like she had been invisible.

_Not worth knowing_.

He said nothing, clenching his fists tightly, waiting for her to finish. When she did, the salve covering the wound, he stood and laced up his breeches before taking the cloths to rinse them in the stream.

Ferin curled into herself on the rock, turning away from the stump. She could not bear to see him gather his things and leave.

"I am sorry if I appear as someone who would tell your secrets," she said dully. There was no response.

The sudden touch on her back surprised her. It was the barest touch of fingers but it made her flinch all the same. "You will have to remove this."

Hesitating, Ferin realised he would see her ruined back; the majority of scars were small, made from nicks and cuts of vicious knives but there were several long ones that crossed over them all, the only evidence of the lash of a whip.

Very few had seen her like this and they had not been pleasant experiences. Why had she agreed to this?

"Why do you hesitate? You have been bold until this moment."

Ferin was glad she couldn't see him. "I... I am terribly scarred," she whispered.

There was a moment of silence and she thought he might suggest retrieving someone more appropriate, like Vala but it never came.

The sun was now making its slow descent and still there was silence between them.

His hands were warm when he lightly touched her back through her tunic. He didn't stop when she gasped in surprise, reaching down to lift it. When it rose to her neck, she grasped it and pulled it over her head to place it in front of her chest, arms still within in case she had to redress quickly.

"Now who is bold," she said wryly, but her voice trembled, her bottom lip doubly so.

"You are not able to make light of this," he said curiously and she could feel his burning gaze upon her skin.

"No," she agreed. "You are a King, a warrior, a man who is in his prime. I am nothing of the sort. I am different."

He seemed to understand what she didn't say. "You think you are unworthy for another to look upon you?"

Her silence confirmed it. He let it rest.

"You will have to move your bindings..."

Ferin untied the side of her breast bindings quickly, catching the cloth as it fell from her, keeping herself hidden from his view.

It was quiet again and Ferin closed her eyes tightly when he placed the cold cloth to her shoulder. She yelped with the pain but it quickly ebbed. The heat retreated, the throbbing of her pulse abated.

"You have been done a great disservice, Ferin, daughter of..." he paused, seeming only to realise now that he didn't know her lineage. They had travelled with her for weeks and he did not know.

Ferin smiled despondently. "The woman who raised me was named Sine. She found me when I was abandoned and took me in. Unfortunately she had been elderly and so passed on when I was quite young. I was accepted by none in the village because I aged strangely and caused mischief. I was seen as a bad omen. I was a bit wild when Gandalf found me there.

"She was a lovely woman. Kind and loving. She used to braid my hair and sing to me. She taught me to accept everyone for who they were..."

"You miss her."

"I do. She was my home."

He placed salve upon her wound. "You have no home or family to go back to?"

"No. I have no one but Vala."

Becoming bolder again, Thorin traced the tips of his fingers down a few of her scars, following one or two down the base of her spine. It felt wonderful. One particular scar veered off to wrap around her left side, continuing around her front where she knew it travelled up across her breast, bisecting her nipple. But he could not see that.

It had been so long since anyone had touched her this way; soft, curious and innocent enough. She sighed and relaxed into it, willing to allow him free reign while it lasted. She had perused him freely; it was only fair he was allowed the same. What harm was there, really? She didn't expect to live through this journey and certainly if she did, she would not find a companion to see past her long and bitter past. Not enough to treat her kindly or to touch her affectionately.

Vala often tried to be loving and touched her and hugged her often but it wasn't the same as true, intimate affection from the opposite sex.

This was _lovely_.

Goosebumps rose on her skin but her body was beginning to let go, exhausted and unable to respond fully so she basked in his sudden, but not unwelcome affection. _Do not question it_.

His confidence rose with her relaxed bearing and the tips of fingers became hands, stroking firmly upwards and to the base of her skull and into her hair before moving back down, deliberately slow, thumbs pressing into her spine as they went.

A low sound erupted from deep in her throat. She couldn't help it. She was boneless. Her head lolled upon her arms resting on her knees.

After a few more minutes, the world began to become a little hazy and Thorin reached for her bindings, gently tying them before rousing her to put on her tunic. Ferin could barely move she was so relaxed but the sun was very low now and they really needed rest.

He moved away for a moment and she fuzzily thought he was leaving her to walk back herself. How could she when she couldn't even stand?

"You'd better not be leaving me here, you bastard," she muttered sleepily, leaning heavily on her hand, elbow on her knee.

A low chuckle by her ear and she was suddenly lifted.

"No," she protested, weakly pushing at his now clothed chest. "M'too heavy."

"You are not," he assured her and she gave up quickly, resting her head on his shoulder, arms around his neck for purchase as he limped back to camp.

"Silly Dwarf."

When she awoke again, he was placing her on her make-shift bedroll and before he could get away she lightly grasped part of his shirt to hold him there. "I'll return the favour," she murmured. "Promise."

He gave her an amused look, untangling her fingers. "Then I will hold you to that."

And then he was gone and Ferin dropped into one of the most restful sleeps she'd had in years.


	9. The First

**A/N: Hello, my lovelies! Sorry about the wait. It took a while for me to finish this one. Once I start writing it's hard to stop and to find enough time to allow myself to do that I have to wait.**

**I hope you enjoy and thank you to all my followers and reviewers:**

**ZabuzasGirl: I enjoy your enthusiasm! I hope you're happy with this chapter and continue to enjoy the story!**

**MugglebornPrincesa: Bluntness is always something I have admired in people so I thought it was a good characteristic for Ferin to have. And I think a healthy amount of bluntness is quite an effective way to deal with Thorin I believe.**

**Jinx248: I'm happy that you enjoyed the chapter and are enjoying the story so far. I can only hope you enjoy this one as well!**

**LilithLieLoveheart: Your consistency in reviewing makes me very happy, my dear! Thank you so much and I'm hoping to have a few more happy chapters before the end of this as life is terribly heavy without it.**

**InkedCupcake92: I like the name! And I'm very glad you liked it!**

**BattiBeff: Early Christmas is the best Christmas! I'm the same when I get new updates from the stories I follow. I often squee and clap and then try to hide how excited I do be! Hope you like this one.**

**March onward!**

**Blue xx**

* * *

Ferin woke gradually with the strangest feeling of being watched. And weighed down. And...

Dripped on?

Heavy panting breaths whooshed across her face and the smell that followed was _awful._ Groggily opening her eyes, she faced a set of large fawn paws.

The paws were big; the size of her own hands but it was not a Warg. No, a Warg wouldn't sit there quite placidly. Whatever beast it was, was sitting down beside her happily enough, panting over her hair and side of her face. Thick strings of drool dripped to the ground, curling disgustingly into the dirt.

Ferin's body felt groggy but she pushed herself up off her stomach, shoulder burning in protest. On her knees, she faced the fawn animal and her mind finally recognised it.

A dog; a large, fawn... bear of a dog. He was covered in a thick coat of fur that put any actual bear to shame, the thickness fluffing out at his neck in a mane, his drooping ears matching his equally droopy eyes and tongue.

She knew this dog.

He was large enough for a Hobbit to ride on like a pony but this dog carried no Hobbit. He carried a very small, gnarled-handed, humped old –

"-Witch! Yes you're quite right, my dear," said a cheerful Gandalf, who sat by the small fire on a log. The others were chewing breakfast slowly (rabbit again), warily watching between her and the dog, and the little old women, _smaller_ _than_ _Bilbo_, who sat by an uncomfortable Thorin.

The dog inched itself closer, giant tail wagging like a brush stirring leaves and twigs. He was eager to say hello again but was mindful of his Mistresses wishes not to leap all over people he liked unless they specifically allowed him. He snuffled impatiently, body quivering in anticipation. Ferin had been happy to say hello the last and only time they'd met. When she was still unresponsive, staring with a strange expression at his Mistress, Rebel (so lovingly named by said Mistress), woofed at her softly.

Moira scoffed and rolled her eyes, little hands busy in her bag. When she spoke, her voice was a lilting version of Dwalin's. "Say hello to him before he wets himself!"

Ferin blinked, looking back at the dog. He was now standing, feet dancing, head tossing as he tried to talk to her in roo's and huffs and yips.

She sighed. "Alright you – ah!" He'd pounced, forcing her flat to her coat. "Easy! You bloody beast! Stop _licki – not the mouth! Pfft! _Get_ off! _Stop!Off! Oh gods you _smell_! What have you been rolling in? Off! Go say hello to someone else!"

Happy that he'd had his greeting, Rebel actually _walked_ on her to remove himself only to trot off to a Dwarf. There were many protests of, "Off! No! Stay away, you monster! Ah! Help! Don't go near that! That's my breakfast! Gandalf, do something! Anything! He keeps _licking!_" before Vala called him to play wrestle with her and Dwalin.

Ferin sat up, wiping the drool off her face.

"Is this the friend you talked about, Gandalf?" Dori asked, huffing as he folded his cloak carefully, having managed to wrestle it from the giant dog.

"Hmm? Oh no Mister Dori, that friend is a walk away yet. I met Moira here on the way back. Seems she's been travelling a bit looking for Ferin."

"Looking for me?"

"Indeed," Gandalf said, smiling and saying nothing more.

"Come over here, young miss!" Moira called. The stooped Witch was sitting on a log by the fire now and had swiped her hand across the dirt on the ground to make space for her magic charms. Bits of bone and wood and animals teeth fell out of a small beaded bag she'd tipped over and she spread them out carefully.

Ferin, realising the woman was going to do a reading, cautiously made her way over. Upon closer inspection, Moira was wearing an old, but thick travelling cloak that was covered in dust and bits of twigs. He wrinkled face, small stature and grey hair tied tightly, made her look elderly and harmless but the keen blue eyes underneath dark brows could frighten the hardiest of warriors. Her sharp chin and nose made for a severe countenance when paired with those eyes.

Moira looked up, rolling her eyes at Ferin's awkward, guarded stance beside her. "Sit dear and don't look so damn worried! I'm not turning you into anything else." She waved her leathered hand dismissively. "You've learned that lesson I suppose. Sit! My neck creaks when I look at you up there!"

Ferin sat quickly, hands resting placidly on her knees. "Why are you here if not to change me again?"

Moira fixed her cloak just so before settling on the log. The woman sighed, reaching out a hand to touch Ferin's chin, tilting it one way and another. "This world is changing, love. And not for the better. When you came to me, your inebriation created a haze over my readings. All I could see was a selfish woman bent on changing her own Fate and it angered me."

Ferin looked away, feeling the other's scrutiny. It made her uncomfortable.

"I was wrong and for that I am sorry. I never understood your sorrow; I believed it to be born of naivety. That you made a mistake that was terrible only to your eyes. It wasn't until after that my curiosity led me to ask more questions. I did another reading. What I found was... Well," she sighed, removing her hand and leaning back. "I cannot tell you the details but I can help you along a little. The details may change with each choice that is made so telling you will only be pointless."

"You do not make any sense," Thorin said from beside them. He was frowning, arms folded.

"I will," she answered sternly, glowering at the Dwarf.

"Can you tell us of our journey?" Gloin asked fervently, moving in with the others closer to the women. "I have read the signs that favour our chance of taking back Erebor but I have seen no more since we began."

"I am not here for you Mister Gloin."

"But - !"

"No."

"Surely you could tell us something?" Bilbo asked gently, fiddling with his waistcoats missing buttons.

Moira pursed her lips, fixing her cloak once more. "Perhaps," she said eventually. The others murmured happily for a few moments until her sharp "Ahem!" brought their focus back to her. "If you would be so kind, gentlemen, I have a reading to do."

They quieted. Ferin watched as the Witch swept up her charms and shook them in her closed fists, a whispering chant coming from her lips. When they were released, they scattered in a pattern only she could read; and read she did. A heavy frown puckered her brows and she murmured something.

Leaning back away from the charms, Moira turned to Ferin and in quick succession, the old woman ran her hands through her hair, moving her head up and down, peering into her eyes before finally pulling her forward to seek out the wound on her shoulder.

"Hmm."

Ferin cleared her throat and gently detangled herself from the woman. "What does 'hmm' mean?"

"It means that the reading was right. I was hoping distance and your presence would say different but alas, it has not."

"What did you see?" Bilbo whispered, staring at the charms. He didn't like the feeling he got from the way they were scattered nor the look on Moira's face when she'd read them.

"I saw many things, Master Hobbit," she replied unhappily. "I saw many paths that led to many a tragedy. There were very few promising ones."

"Did you see anything of us?" Gloin asked, receiving a thump from, surprisingly, Vala.

"Tell us what you can, please," she said to the Witch. "I would like to know what is to happen."

"I wouldn't," Oin muttered, adjusting his ear horn.

Ferin ignored them all, gazing at the scattered bits of bone and teeth. There was a battered coin there, nestling its black sheen against the white of a piece of bone. There was something foreboding about it.

"What does that mean?" she asked softly, pointing to the offending objects.

Moira looked at her considering for a moment, the others quieting at the atmosphere. "It means Death."

Ferin took a deep breath, her heart feeling like iron weighted down in her stomach. "Mine?"

"On some paths, yes. Death in battle. Honourable and quick. On others... it is not yours directly, but you will feel great sorrow for those who do pass. More than what you have experienced in your life thus far. It will eventually wear your heart and you will pass from the loss soon after."

Her news stabbed through Ferin's heart. Who could she care for so much that their passing could take her with them? Vala came to mind but she'd only known her the last few years. They were close and she would feel a great pain should her friend die but to die herself from it...?

When she spoke, her voice felt raw, breath painful. "Have I made no right choices?" _Have I not lost enough?_

It was Gandalf who spoke instead, his large hand resting on her shoulder. "The choices we make are made blindly. We only hope that they lead us to the right path. Some paths are more treacherous than others but forging through them brings great reward."

"There is one path that will lead you true but it is so muddled with the rest, you will not find it on your own," Moira said. "It is also intertwined with the Fate of these other fellows. What happens to you now, your Fate is here, with them on this journey. This will be the path you lead that will determine how you end.

"But the only way to focus it, I'm afraid, is to give you a Sight Mark."

"A Sight Mark?" Vala asked.

"Indeed," Gandalf agreed, cottoning on to what Moira was thinking. An intriguing idea, he thought. Reaching into his bag, the Wizard pulled out a small pot of red powder.

"A very old, little used magic," Moira answered, reaching for the pot and opening it. A small amount was shaken onto her palm where she rubbed the fingers and thumb to spread it around. "I don't like to use it much myself."

"Then why use it on her?" Bilbo asked, frowning in worry.

Gloin looked perplexed, having never heard of such a thing himself. "What does it do?"

"It gives the person the gift of Sight but in small increments," Gandalf said, gripping his staff to tap the crystal on Moira's powder-covered hand. It heated up with a small red glow before burning brighter.

"Increments?" Ferin asked, watching in alarm. Moira's hand looked hot metal ready for branding. The Witch didn't seem affected by it.

"It will give you dreams and momentary flashes of what is to come. They may come quickly or slowly, in snippets or in long dreams. You may have only a moment to act should they decide to give you a foresight as to what is to come."

"Sounds very unpredictable," growled Gloin, his intrigue waning with the explanation. Who would willingly choose such a curse?

"It is, that is why it is used little today," Moira agreed, seeming satisfied that her hand was ready.

"Where are you doing this?" Ferin asked, tensing as Moria closed in on her. "And will it hurt?"

"Your shoulder," the Witch answered, motioning her forward to Thorin. "You're a strong lad," Moira smiled, ushering Ferin to kneel between his knees. "Could you hold her?"

Ferin tensed even more as Thorin regarded Moira carefully before grasping Ferin's arms.

"Closer, dear, don't be shy! Hug her if you must and yes, it will hurt a bit, dear. Bit of a sting." Moira grasped Ferin's tunic and hoisted it to her shoulders, exposing her wound and scars for all to see before pushing her firmly into Thorin's arms where he held her, large hands hot on her back.

Ferin could only rest her chin on his shoulder, hands placed on the log either side of his hips. His hair tickled her nose and she waited nervously. There was a moment of quiet and Ferin felt the brief shake of Thorin's head before his hands tightened unbearably.

"What – " White hot fire closed over her wound and _pressed_. She screamed. Thorin released one of his hands to press against the back of her head, forcing her forehead into his neck.

"You must keep quiet," he murmured urgently.

Ferin could hear Moira chanting something but the pain overwhelmed her senses. Whimpering, she pressed closer to Thorin, hands gripping his back, biting hard on her lip to do as he said.

When it was over, Ferin slumped in relief and Moira quickly placed a cold cloth on the mark.

"That should do it."

"Bloody hope so," Ferin gasped, trying to breathe through the residual pain. There was a brief panicked thought that she'd have this mark forever. What had she done? "Will the mark fade? Will the Sight leave me?"

"It will when it is ready," the Witch answered casually, busying herself with collecting her trinkets and charms.

"That is not reassuring," Ferin muttered and Thorin grunted in agreement.

While she was recovering, Thorin still holding her to her surprise, Ferin listened to the Dwarves pack and ready themselves, Moira doing the same.

"Take care with what you see," Moira said softly from beside her, jewellery clacking together as she bent to see Ferin's face. "It is not always as it seems so I must ask you to _think _before you act. Give it time and I think you will find your own way. Good-bye and I hope we meet again under better circumstances."

Ferin released one hand from Thorin's back (he hissed at the release of pressure and she apologised), and clasped Moira's arm respectfully. "Others have a habit of saying that and I can only hope better circumstances are in the near future for us to do so."

Moira chuckled and brought a hand up to Thorin's where he held the cold cloth to her shoulder. "Take care of her, Thorin Oakenshield and she will take care of you."

Thorin held her gaze, his own guarded but he nodded eventually. He had underestimated Bilbo... perhaps he had done so with her as well. Moira left with a smile and mounted her furry steed, Rebel wagging his tail in good-bye, tongue still lolling out from the side of his mouth. "I hope you fare well on your journey. Take care, good-bye!"

She urged Rebel away, the giant dog sprinting off in loping strides.

"Where does she go?" someone asked.

"She heads for the Shire, I believe," Gandalf responded, checking to make sure he had everything he needed.

"Will she fare well with the Orcs and Goblins?"

"She will be fine, Ori," the Wizard chuckled, adjusting his satchel. "She is very powerful and has her own paths to travel. Rebel is a very unique beast that can travel at great speeds."

Ferin listened quietly while the pain in her shoulder ebbed. Thorin continued to hold the cloth and she could only guess his thoughts were very deep for he barely noticed her breath across his ear. She became a bit distracted by it. It was large and very round; very different from Hobbits and Elves and that made her think more on his features.

The others were rotund and heavily bearded with large bulbous noses and unusual hairstyles. Thorin and his nephews had none of these qualities. They were slimmer and finer featured and besides Fili, their hairstyles were tame in comparison. _Perhaps it was the line of Durin that made them so differently_, she thought. Thorin had a slim nose, thick eyebrows and a very simple hairstyle. The only feature that distinctly identified him as similar to his comrades were his round ears.

He'd still not released her and she was loath to disturb him from his thoughts but her knees were beginning to hurt and her feet were getting cold. Her boots that she'd removed the night previous sat by her coat and the morning dew was cold on her skin.

Risking the possibility that his mood would change (she held very little hope that his kindness from last night would spill into much of this morning) Ferin moved her fingers against his back, shifting her chin on his shoulder. Her nose brushed his ear and she was amused to see it twitch, his body tensing immediately afterwards. "What does it look like?" she murmured.

He moved his head towards her as she spoke before he removed the cloth. "You look like branded cattle."

She grimaced. "Lovely."

"It looks like her hand," Bilbo's voice said beside them, the Hobbit having snuck up without notice. "It's red and in the shape of her hand."

Ferin leaned back and Thorin let her, keeping his hands on her waist. She twisted her neck as far as possible and made out the edge of small finger marks. Bilbo reached forward and brushed his fingertips over it and it was like being struck by lightning; she jumped and a small picture of _something_ flashed across her vision.

_Bilbo was running through a dark forest with his little sword, hand cupped to his mouth, calling out something. But there was no sound, the colour greyed and hazy and he was alone._

Ferin gasped and blinked as the vision disappeared.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"

"No, Bilbo, I don't believe you did," Gandalf answered softly, clasping a large and withered hand on his shoulder.

"Is it always like that?" Ferin asked, sitting back on her heels.

"I'm afraid not. I believe that one was painless and brief. Your fist real vision will be difficult to bear."

"I was afraid of that."

* * *

The journey to Beorn's home was a quiet enough affair. Spirits were fairly high at the prospect of a safe place to regain themselves and supplies but they had never met a skinchanger before.

Ferin walked by Bilbo and Thorin near the middle of the troop. In hindsight, Ferin should have realised Thorin would distance himself to some degree. He was more open to Bilbo, sending the Hobbit smiles and chatting amicably about little or nothing but he had said little to her since they had parted to ready themselves for the trip to Beorn's.

In one of the quieter moments between the three, Ferin dared to talk about what had happened in the Goblin's Kingdom.

"Your nephews mentioned that you did not believe me in my confrontation with the Great Goblin King."

Thorin looked to her, regarding her in silence for a moment. "I did not."

She frowned, skirting around a few difficult rocks on the path. "Why did you not believe my tale of betrayal over my supposed greed for your gold?"

Thorin looked away then and she gave him time to think. "I was quick to judge you back in Rivendell for I did not know any different. I did not trust your character."

Ferin was confused. "And you trust it now?"

"I still know very little about you other than what I have been told and what you have said. When you blocked my path to those machines and you bargained with that beast..." He paused, keeping his pace even with hers. Bilbo trailed a bit after them, content to allow them to talk. "The others did not see it but you trembled."

Ferin looked to the dirt path, shame curling in her gut. She had thought she had hid it well.

"I thought it was something else until you turned to push me away. I could see it in your eyes. You feared for your life, yet you stood your ground for people you owed no allegiance to."

"That is why you came to my aid," she said in realisation. He nodded. "Thank you."

For several hours they travelled and by late afternoon, they'd reached the edge of Beorn's home and a few hours after the greetings, Ferin found herself pleasantly stuffed and sleepy. The heat of the fire in the middle of the long hall was lovely and the soft bedding Beorn had provided them was bliss.

With good company and merriment surrounding her, Ferin began to doze on one side of the room and in the middle of the night, the first vision visited.

_Ferin's eyes opened to a darkened sky, flashes of arrows flying overhead. She was lying down. Her limbs ached and her breath was harsh and although she could feel it, she could not hear it._

_Getting up proved difficult, the weight of a dead Man pinning her legs but rise she did. Looking around, Men and Elves and Dwarves battled Orcs and Wargs; but there was no clashing of metal or the near silent release of arrows. Mouths were opened in screams and roars and shouts but nothing made it to her ears. A terrible silence._

_The wind wrapped her in its embrace, flowing across her and through others but again the silence._

_Nothing nothing._

_There in the distance, she could see her companions fighting against the horde. She moved to help, running and leaping over unknown Men and Elves and Orcs alike, never stopping to see their faces. Push on, you must help, she thought._

_When she reached Bofur and Balin she joined the melee, slashing and hacking and defending. Her body ached and her head pounded but she could feel it in her soul that if she stopped they would lose._

_Slowly, so slowly, sound began to return. Her breath was first, harsh and broken, her cries next and then the clanging of metal and roars of others. It built and built and soon became deafening._

_She was tiring now, desperation her only driving force._

_And then she heard him._

_Turning away from her defeated foe she spotted Thorin. He was fighting with all the strength he had left against a swarm of enemies. _

_Ferin rushed to help, fighting her way through. She had to get to him. She had to. Had to._

_And then she was there, fighting by his side, pushing them back and there was a brief moment to breathe so she turned to face him, a wild grin emerging..._

_...but it faded when she spotted an Orc behind him, angry blade raised._

_Instinct led her to grab the Dwarf King, turning them like a crude dance, her taking his place as the Orc struck. Thorin roared and swept his sword in an arc, taking the Orc's head clean off._

_The sound tapered off once more, a dull ringing buzzing in her ears._

_She felt nothing at first, staring at Thorin's shocked gaze before her head tilted down to see the end of the blade thrust through her chest. It gleamed red and blood roiled up and ran from her lips. The breath froze in her chest, the sheer disbelief of what had happened striking her mute._

_And then the pain came, blinding hot and she opened her mouth to scream – _

Her scream shocked the others out of sleep. Her body arched upwards, breath stuck in her throat and _Gods the pain the pain make it stop!_

"Ferin!"

"What's happened?"

"Ferin? Lass, what's wrong?"

"Ferin! Breathe!"

"Mister Gandalf, do something!"

"Move! Move away, now! Give her space. Ferin, let go, relax your body and breathe."

She couldn't. There was no air. _Pain. Fire. It hurts it burns!_

Someone lifted her and there was a hard strike to her stomach and suddenly air! She gasped and shot up, desperately pulling in as much as she could. Without thought she tore at her chest where the sword had pierced her, blindly searching for the evidence that she had been killed in the battle.

But it was not there and hands grasped her own to stop her tearing her skin and someone was murmuring in her ear and someone was supporting her from behind and gradually... gradually her breathing slowed, her panic subsided, and her mind cleared to see all the company surrounding her, looking on in worry. Bilbo crouched by her, his hands grasping one of hers.

Distantly she could feel herself mumbling something and it wasn't until Bofur said, "You're alright, lass. Your alive, safe here with us," that she realised she'd been saying she'd died over and over.

"The first is always the hardest," Gandalf reiterated softly.

Ferin looked at him with wide eyes. "She said it was honourable and quick. It was not quick at all! It felt like a lifetime of pain!"

"What did you see?" he asked. "Your death, I presume?"

"I did not _see_ my death, Gandalf. I _felt_ it as if I was there. I was run through with a sword."

"_Gods_," someone muttered. Bilbo tightened his hold on her hand and whoever was behind her changed his position to encourage her to lean back against them and she did so gratefully.

"How am I supposed to change that?" she whispered her other hand rubbing the same spot once more.

"I do not know, my dear. It is still early, the answer may yet come."

After a several moments of awkward and tense silence, Gandalf finally mustered up some cheer and encouraged them to rest. "There is no sense wondering and worrying. Things change easily enough. Off to bed with the lot of you! It is the middle of the night!"

They reluctantly moved back to their own bedding, glancing furtively at Ferin now and again. What had she seen? Had she been fighting with them? Would they all meet such a Fate?

Bilbo refused to let go of her hand, settling himself on the next bed and Vala moved herself to the bed on the other side. Ferin did not notice. She merely stared off into the embers of the fire, hand rubbing her skin constantly. Soon, she began to drift and finally slipped into a (thankfully) dreamless sleep.

Vala settled herself by her friend quietly, regarding the silent Dwarf King as he held her. She'd been surprised at how quickly he'd reacted, gripping a rigid Ferin before striking her with the flat of his palm with some force onto her stomach. It had jolted Ferin to breathe and he had gathered her quickly to rest against him, his baritone voice rumbling away, telling her to focus and calm herself. Vala believed it was only herself and Bilbo that had heard it under the chaos, both of them being so close but it was the look on his face that had caused her worry.

He'd looked frightened and shocked before he'd acted, but she did not know why.

Thorin turned his head to stare at Vala in the low light. Vala deliberately kept an open expression. He had no fear with his thoughts and secrets with her. She was just as loyal as Ferin in that regard.

Her tactic worked.

"She said my name," he said lowly. Vala carefully did not look at an observing Bilbo or the unconscious form of her friend. "She called my name. It sounded like a warning."

"That does not make sense if _she_ was killed," Bilbo said just as quietly. Why would Ferin shout a warning only to be killed herself?

Vala frowned, looking down at the unconscious woman. She could only think of one reason for it. Ferin had done it once before with her in a bar fight. She shouted a warning only for her to pull Vala out of the way, taking Vala's place when the man swung a stool down to crack on her back.

Thorin looked down at the woman in his arms and frowned before voicing Vala's thought. "I believe she was protecting me."


	10. She Moved Through The Fair

**A/N: So I went and did a bit of a pet peeve of mine. I included a song within this chapter. I am not fond of songs being in chapters, my brain doesn't cope well with reading lyrics that interrupt the flow but this one, I felt was important. It is all in one block as it is being sung by a person and it is an old Irish song from my own home country so I can only hope you enjoy it. I will leave the link here as I find this version is appropriate for this piece. I apologise for the formatting of the song... sometimes computers just refuse to co-operate. And no, Ferin does not sing like this woman!**

** watch?v=zZAlG0xokS4**

**This chapter is different but intense so I thought I'd leave it as a separate chapter altogether as the next bulk of the story continues in Mirkwood so it would be very long.**

**Thank you to my followers and reviewers:**

**Luna153: I'm very happy you are enjoying this story as much as I am writing it! I always try my best to not have a Mary-Sue as I find them tedious and flat as characters. History, heartache and life happen to us all so why should it not happen to the characters we build as well?**

**Jinx248: Thank you very much and I won't reveal what I have planned, so I'm going to have to keep you in suspense for that, sorry!**

**Samolfran: I'm so happy you noticed the 'Brave' elements to the story. I like the movie's atmosphere and connection to old history and legends so I couldn't help but take a few and place them here.**

**Ink: Your review is wonderful. I cannot thank you enough. I'm glad you like my take on the movie and book and I can only hope to impress you more with what's to come! My writing used to be so much better but alas, I am rusty but you are very kind.**

**On with the story, Dwarves and Elves and Hobbits and whoever else is on this crazy train!**

**Blue xxx**

* * *

In the days spent at Beorn's, Ferin had experienced many horrific visions of her death. She'd been running to aid Kili only to be struck down by an arrow to the heart. She'd fought alongside Bofur only to be clubbed in the head so fiercely it nearly took her head clean off. Aiding Dwalin had gotten her arm taken before an axe imbedded itself in her back and running to Balin had gotten her swarmed by Orcs and Wargs, crushed beneath their feet.

She was exhausted from the nightmares, mouth often bleeding and sore from biting her lip to stop the screams.

She began to fear sleep, only crawling into her bed when she could stay awake no longer. Curling into Vala at night had curbed some of the more gruesome images but it did not dull the pain. Holding Bilbo's hand had only caused her to live his own path, though she didn't know why. He was never present in the battle itself like the others. Instead she saw milder visions of him in a dark place filled with a strange haze, running through corridors and dungeons and looking, always looking.

Bofur was a helpful shoulder when she could stay awake no longer by the fire but alas he did not keep the visions at bay either. He was like Bilbo but happier; images of him and his brother and cousin whittling toys or mining, wandering the lands in search of good company and a place to call home. The ones with laughter gave her a few precious hours but the wandering visions left her with an ache in her heart.

The desperation of driving the visions away led her to Fili and Kili one night. She'd said nothing to the brothers, having no energy to respond to their curiosity, and had collapsed between them. It had been a mistake. It had been the first vision she'd seen of another's death; dreams of a lifeless Fili filled with arrows beside his fallen little brother with glazed eyes.

She'd watched them carefully that morning, forcing herself to see them alive and well, wrestling playfully and laughing with the others. It was not right to witness their death. They were too young, too happy for such a Fate but Ferin couldn't bear to watch it to see if it would change.

Bombur and Bifur had proved promising; she'd slept like the dead but had woken up _starving_. She'd never known such hunger and she'd received a few odd looks that morning when she shovelled her breakfast down. Between Bombur's natural hunger and Bifur's odd mind from his axe, she'd felt like Radagast on those funny mushrooms. She'd also been wired for the rest of the day and couldn't for the life of her remember what the visions had been about.

Dori had managed to calm her with tea and Ferin had decided that enough was enough. She would sleep alone. But sleep did not come so easily; her mind was active, frantically obsessing over the details of each one. Why did she die no matter what? Why could she save one only for her life to take their place? What great battle was this? Was it soon? Would any survive?

Gandalf had disappeared along with their host on one of the early days but Ferin didn't notice until the morning they returned. A freshly skinned Warg and Goblin head was visibly displayed at Beorn's entrance, a warning to all. Turned out he couldn't quite believe their story without proof so he'd trailed their path back to the Goblin's mountain and had found a wandering Goblin and Warg and had beaten the information out of them before killing them.

Ferin's question's were left to hang in the distance as no answers came and to distract herself she began to observe the others.

Bofur, Kili, Fili and Ori told stories and jokes and often laughed or roughhoused outside on the grass. Dwalin was often found fiddling with his weapons or sparring with Vala and his brother, along with Nori, Dori and Bombur sat in a their small group and shared tales of a different kind, of honour and ancient warriors and battles that gave her goosebumps.

Bifur kept to himself, whittling bizarre toys but he seemed content, looking up and watching his cousins every now and again. Gandalf joined him now and then, talking to the odd Dwarf in a mixture of Men's tongue, signs and the heavy Dwarven language of Khuzdul.

Thorin often sat alone, commanding space to think and brood on their journey. She'd left him alone, unwilling to see what her visions could conjure with this man.

One night, they were very merrily singing songs of all sorts around the fire after their meal when Vala joined her.

"Could you help with my hair?" the burly woman asked, holding out a make-shift comb and settling in front of Ferin's stool. Ferin had taken to staying awake as long as possible and often offered to help others with the odd task of mending clothes or sharpening tools. Vala had seemed to understand, often asking Ferin to tell stories or to help to fix her cloak and leggings. Now it was her hair.

"Of course. What do you wish me to do with it?"

"I do not mind," Vala chuckled, valiantly holding her tongue when she saw how dark the skin under her friend's eye had become. She was beyond exhausted and they had to move on in a day or two. "A braid is fine."

Ferin blinked harshly, taking a deep breath to try and wake herself up for the task. Vala settled between her legs, long hair free and heavily sitting down to the base of her back. It was fine hair; something Ferin never had the patience of dealing with, even as a child. She'd demanded her mother to cut it many times and her the older woman had done as she'd asked, ignoring the scandalous whispers when they'd walk through the market.

"My mother used to do this," she said to no one in particular, beginning to brush Vala's hair with care, tenderly undoing snarls and knots like a mother would her daughter. She smiled. "It was the only time she could get me to sit still before bed. She used to bribe me with songs and affectionate touches."

"You have never said," Vala said softly. "I would have tended to you. It is not right to be so long without affection."

"Aye, very true," Bofur chimed in. "Have you had no one to love? No children or close friends?"

Ferin smiled sadly, not minding his bluntness. "I'm afraid I can't have children, Mister Bofur. I was injured many years ago before I came across the Goblin's. The knife that ran through me was poisoned and did a lot of damage inside."

There was a moment of prfound silence and Ferin realised she had brought the mood down considerably. Oh, why was she so blunt? That was not the right thing to say at this moment. "I am sorry. Please do not be sad for me. I have come to terms with this. It happened a very long time ago and I do not look for your sympathy, so please do not think on it any longer."

They seemed reluctant, the mood very heavy to come up from but Bofur was quick enough to think of something else. "Do you know any songs?"

Ferin paused in brushing Vala's hair, having finally undone all the knots. "Um... I know plenty of songs, but I am not a very good singer."

"Oh, lass, don't let that stop you! I'm sure you've a lovely voice!" Balin said to her right by Thorin and his brother. Ferin cleared her throat and parted her friend's hair to begin her braid.

"Go on then," Vala teased, having heard Ferin sing before. She knew a lot of lewd songs best suited for a pub but there were several proper decent ones she'd shared with her that she'd learned from her mother.

Ferin sighed. "What song would you like then?"

There was chatter for a few minutes while they decided but the night was getting late so soon there were suggestions.

"A lively one."

"No! Something with a woman and her love."

"A scandalous one."

"A battle song."

"An old song."

"A sweet maiden – Ouch! What was that for Kili?"

"A big bosomed mai – Ouch!"

Ferin rolled her eyes and carefully started Vala's braid, her hands working from ease of old lessons from her mother.

Then from beside Balin, Bilbo's quiet suggestion stopped them all. "Something from home."

Ferin glanced at him and his curled hair flickered back and forth between fair and dark in the fire, his quiet gaze holding her own with ease. She nodded and turned back to focus on her friend. Her cheeks felt hot and it wasn't from the heat of the flames. It had been a long time since she'd sang anything other than horrible drinking songs so it took a moment to find one and find one she did. It even incorporated a few of the men's suggestions.

And so she weaved and began to sing. Her voice was soft and nowhere near as strong as some of the others but they had asked and she would deliver.

"_My young love said to me, 'My mother won't mind_

_And my father won't slight you for your lack of kind.'_

_And she stepped away from me and this she did say_

_It will not be long, love, till our wedding day."_

_She stepped away from me and she moved through the fair_

_And fondly I watched her move here and move there_

_And then she turned homeward with one star awake_

_Like the swan in the evening moves over the lake._

_The people were saying, no two e'er were wed_

_But one had a sorrow that never was said_

_And she smiled as she passed me with her goods and her gear_

_And that was the last that I saw of my dear._

_Last night she came to me, my true love came in_

_So softly she came that her feet made no din_

_And she laid her hands on me and this she did say,_

'_It will not be long, love, 'til our wedding day.'"_

When she finished, she found the others had settled themselves on their beds, dozing quietly. Above them the smoke curled and escaped through the roof. Vala had moved away to lay by Dwalin and the only ones left awake were herself and Thorin. They regarded each other for a long while in the darkening hall and then he began to talk.

He told her of some of his childhood, of how he'd been trained to be a leader of his people from an early age. Merriment and play had never been a factor in his life, his duty to his line always at the forefront and it hadn't mattered anyway for many children were afraid to play with a young Prince. He'd spent most of his time with books and training to fight.

He talked of losing Erebor and how travel had made him wary of other folk. He yearned for his home more and more each day and the regret he felt at not doing more to keep it was so profound... he could not bear to think of it for more than a moment lest he go mad.

He expressed his tiredness of the world and his anger at those in it and Ferin could only listen.

After a long moment of silence when he could speak of it no more, Ferin watched him carefully; the sit of his shoulders, the heartache and yearning in his gaze, the dark skin beneath his eyes. He alone seemed to bear the weight of his people on his shoulders; a man, a Prince forced to be King by the thrust of a blade, by Dragon fire bearing down upon him and the death of many of his kin in his memory.

In the light by the fire, she saw the mark of her bite on his jaw from when they had fought so many weeks ago. It was healed but part of the outline of the faint scar was noticeable just above the line of hair. Had she been that harsh? Without thought she reached forward and brushed her fingers against it. He flinched.

Ferin frowned curiously. "Do you dislike being touched or are you just unused to it?" she asked softly, mindful of the quiet atmosphere that surrounded them. The stillness here confined them into a world of their own and the embers were the only glow in the room. He did not answer, and she thought he looked unsure. "A bit of both then, perhaps."

Leaning closer, she brought her fingers up to the same spot, pressing firmer this time, her palm following to cup his cheek. His beard was softer then she would have thought and she curled her fingers through it to scratch gently at the skin beneath.

His eyes closed under his frown and he swallowed, hands clenching, body frozen. Ferin stood slowly, trying not to startle him and moved in front of his stool, her hands never leaving his skin.

"I will not hurt you," she murmured and slowly... so slowly she dare not move, his fists unclenched, his shoulders relaxed and his brow evened out. When he did nothing else, she moved her hands again, thumbs lightly trailing over his features, across his mouth and up his long nose to the crease in his eyebrows, the touch firmer here, and he tilted his head back slightly with a shaky sigh.

And Ferin began to think. "You've had everything taken from you..." He opened his eyes to look at her in the shadows. "And for many years, I have seen many people give others and myself such falseness, that it has turned me sour to the thought of it.

"When Gandalf chose me to join you, I thought of it as a job. I would see you and your kin to Erebor and I would leave. My duty was born of a need to keep my mind off my own troubles but I had forgotten in my own bitterness what true purpose felt like. The world has turned my mind away from others plights and it was your purpose, your kin and their friendship that allowed me to see it once more.

"All I've ever done in these last seventy years is take from others. I took friends for granted, those few who saw past my scars, and I took the word of those less worthy over theirs. When I'd realised my mistake I took revenge and cast away those who challenged me.

"I could have changed but instead I could only feel sorry for myself, selfishly turning to drinking and gambling and ruining others lives as they had ruined mine."

He said nothing, not understanding where she was coming from or where she was going but her hands never tightened, never moved away; they'd stayed cupped to his face, gentle but firm.

"I will give you all I have left," she whispered, knowing as soon as she said it that she meant these words with all her heart. "I will give you my loyalty and my courage, whatever is left of it, and I will give my blades and my skill and friendship, should you wish it, and I will give you my stubbornness and sharp tongue should you need to be curbed." She smiled at this, warming to her promise. "Whatever I have left in me, I will give to you. I will help you take back your home and I will see you in your rightful place."

He had not expected that she could see, the shock on his face clear even in the dark and her smile grew wider. What a freeing thing to do, she thought, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders. If she was to die on this journey no matter what then she would give the last of what she could give.

Stepping back to give him space, she motioned for him to stand and encouraged him to his bed. They both needed sleep, Ferin especially. They still had a long way to go.

They settled, Ferin near him on the next bed but unwilling to touch him during sleep. Enduring the vision of Fili and Kili had been hard and the fear of what his could be kept her at bay.

Thankfully, sleep came quickly for once and, mercifully, it was vision free. She never even noticed Thorin's quiet gaze on her for most of the remaining night.


	11. Spiders, Gandalf giant ones

**A/N: Didn't think I'd get this one done today but here we are.**

**Thank you to my followers and reviewers:**

**Angeltoots: I'm glad you like it so far. I can only hope you enjoy the rest!**

**MugglebornPrincesa: You're becoming quite consistent, my dear, thank you so much! I think I'll keep you in suspense as to what I'm planning but you should get an idea about it I think in the next chapter or two. We still have those shoddy Elves to deal with. Bold Elves, locking up our Dwarves!**

**BattiBeff: Another consistent reviewer! I feel so happy with myself right now! I felt bad that they don't know the ending to their own story, the tragedy that it is, so I could only give Ferin a helping hand there. The idea of wishing to know the Fate of yourself and those you care for is tempting but it's such a curse when such darkness lies ahead. I can only hope she can handle what's to come. I don't really want her to go insane. Too boring.**

**Trudge on!**

**Blue x**

* * *

Ferin slept through the next day and into the following morning, the others having left her alone to pack for their journey. When she awoke, it was to a wonderful breakfast before Vala ushered her out to get ready.

Ferin moved to dress herself in her mended coat and weaponry, picking up the bag that Vala had left for her by a bench. A quick inventory revealed food and some spare cloths for wounds and mending that Beorn had supplied them. Looking around at the others, she spotted several with a fresh set of bows and arrows and new knives. Excellent.

Vala approached her with two old, wide leather sheaths sown together with straps for the shoulders.

"Thought you could use this," the larger woman smiled, taking Ferin's swords from the grass beside her and slotting them into place.

"You are too kind, my friend," Ferin replied gratefully, donning make-shift scabbards and pulling the straps tight.

Vala adjusted her own pack on her fur coat and glanced to the others readying the ponies. Ferin hadn't looked yet. "You do realise we're riding ponies for the next few days, yes?"

Ferin froze before jerking her head in that direction. "No, no I didn't. I don't remember anyone telling me we were. I don't remember much details of anything about our journey from here actually."

"Ah, well..." Vala clapped her on the shoulder, a little more forcefully than she'd intended. "You were a bit out of sorts so I decided not to tell you myself until we were leaving. I think the others thought I'd told you so..."

Ferin sighed. "That was kind of you," she said sarcastically, scowling at the group of ponies waiting placidly as their packs were adjusted.

"I thought so," Vala agreed. "Come, meet your pony."

She fairly much dragged Ferin across until she stood awkwardly in front of a black, round little creature who perked his ears in interest at her arrival. He stretched his neck forward to sniff and nuzzle her belly.

"I don't have any treats."

He ceased his searching at that only to lift his head higher to explore her face and hair. Balin, Thorin and Bilbo looked on curiously from their own ponies and it was only when the daft thing whinnied that the rest of the company looked over to see that Vala's pony had joined in the exploration. One circled to nudge her other side, seeking to find her hands to lick off any salt on the skin.

Beorn and Gandalf wandered over with the commotion and before long it was Bofur's pony sniffing at her shoes while Bilbo's shoved its way in to smell her ears. The whiskers tickled.

Ferin stood very still, frowning severely but allowed them their curiosity. She did not wish to offend Beorn or his animal companions and besides, she was used to it. Ponies always had a curiosity for her and never seemed to realise that Ferin just wasn't as interested in them as they were in her. At least they were only ponies and not full sized –

"No," she protested when Gandalf's horse paced quickly into the growing collection of furry steeds. "You're too big, you brute, stay away!"

Gandalf chuckled and quickly grabbed the reins, deterring it while Beorn casually lifted her out of the fray of ponies. "You must have something sweet in your blood," the giant man chuckled. Ferin wasn't amused. "I have never seen them act like that before. A rare thing indeed, I should think. I am glad to have met you."

"And I you," she answered for want of something better to say. Ferin was acutely aware of how Bilbo must have felt when Beorn had lifted him as well, dangling helplessly. If he started calling her fat bunny, she'd have some very strong words.

He didn't, thankfully. He merely deposited her on the little black creature she'd been led to at the beginning. He tossed his head and pawed the ground, delighted to have been given the funny being over his companions. The other ponies were reluctantly led away by their riders and soon they were on their way to the path to Mirkwood, shouting farewells to giant man who'd given them respite.

After a few minutes of adapting to the rhythm of her pony, Ferin thought about how long it had been since she'd ridden. She suspected it was probably a good twenty years or so, so there would be soreness to follow but for now, it wasn't too bad.

They journeyed at a fast pace over the lands, galloping when the way was smooth and resting briefly for food when they could, the ponies grateful as well. It wasn't until they had made good distance from Beorn's home that the mood lightened enough for songs but during the night, their rest was uneasy; fear of Goblins and Wargs catching up to them stirring in their minds.

They stopped for lunch in the grasses one afternoon, surrounded by wildflowers and rocks.

Ferin's legs burned, her back ached and her fingers were cramped but she said nothing. It would only bring embarrassment.

Bilbo had stopped beside her and had helped her regain her balance when her legs wobbled for a moment.

"I'm a bit more used to it from the weeks we travelled by horse," he said, smiling in sympathy. "But I think I was worse than you the first week." Ferin returned his smile and they headed to the others for a brief rest and some provisions.

Finding herself by Balin, Ferin was happy enough to listen to Bofur tell his stories only for his brother to correct a few of the embellishments he'd added. It had started a play fight on who could top who for a most ridiculous story.

"Here, lass," Balin said, handing her a lovely red apple.

"Thank you." Ferin took a bite and savoured the sweetness. It wouldn't be long before food would be in short supply and luxuries like an apple were few and far between, especially with Dwarves.

"I wanted to thank you," he began. Ferin looked at him in surprise. "I'm afraid my ears were not as asleep as you might have liked to think."

Oh. "You heard everything?"

"Aye," he responded, smiling in apology. "What you've offered is very generous both to my kin and me."

Ferin took another bite and swallowed before eyeing him carefully. "Why do include yourself separately?"

Balin turned from her and studied Thorin across the way, sitting on the grass and watching his nephews roughhouse (Kili had tried to place flowers in Fili's hair to make him look like a fair maiden) with a tolerant, but fond expression.

"I tutored him when he was a young boy. He is very strong willed and has never made friends easily. Other children always gave him a wide berth. He was always a very quiet boy, watching the people around him. It always made him look so serious. Many thought him strange but it was whispered gossip for they would never insult the King's grandson but..." The older Dwarf leaned in closer, his expression suddenly full of mischief and amusement. "Between you and me, I believe he was just very shy."

Ferin barked a laugh, covering her mouth when the others looked at her in surprise. She cleared her throat. "Sorry!" Leaning into Balin with red cheeks, she said incredulously, "Thorin was shy?"

"Aye," Balin said, smiling broadly. "He was a small little thing when he was but a tyke, thinner and finer featured. Different from other Dwarf children," he mused. "And he seemed to know it from an early age. It hit his self-confidence hard and despite his loving siblings, he never seemed to grow out of it.

"It took a few years for his strength to show but when it did, he became such a blustering, important bear cub, marching around and showing off in the hopes the other children would see that he was one of them.

"But they'd already been distant and he could not persuade them otherwise so he retreated into himself more and more, becoming that quiet little thing from before. His duty took over then as he grew and more was expected of him. It wasn't long before he became a Prince, ready to do what was right for his people."

Ferin listened to it all, apple forgotten in her hand. There was an image of a little dark haired Dwarf boy puffing up his chest and stomping around his rooms before it was replaced by the Thorin she could see now, watching them warily. "Why do you tell me this?" she asked quietly, tearing her gaze from the man with difficulty.

Balin sighed, sitting back and tidying his cloak, the crumbs of bread swept away to the earth for the birds. "You promised him friendship without question and I can see that you meant it." Ferin nodded seriously. "That is why I tell you. He needs a friend. I know he has Dwalin but Dwalin is the Kinsguard as well; his duty is to his King. No, Thorin needs someone who can see him for who he is as a person, as a man, and not a Prince or King; someone who can see the lost boy and stick by him no matter the circumstances. In our journey so far, I can see that once you've decided to give part of your heart to another, it is never taken back. You love Vala dearly as a companion and I would like to see someone giving that to Thorin."

Ferin swallowed and turned away from his fatherly gaze to stare at the dirt at her boots. "I don't have much of it left to give, Balin. I don't know if what I have will be enough. I am willing to try but I fear he will not want it."

Balin frowned at her opinion of herself, unknowingly mirroring Thorin's thoughts when she'd thought herself unworthy to be looked upon. "Now listen to me," he said sternly. "He is as stubborn as a Dwarf can be. He will try to push you away so do not let him. You are worthy of our friendship, lass and he is worthy of yours. There is no harm in trying and it will do you both some good, I'd wager."

Ferin sat for a few moments in silence. "I will try."

* * *

One evening, they knew they could not to stop. Mirkwood was not far ahead and Beorn had told them they would reach it early by the fourth day so they urged their ponies into a gallop. If they could make it to the edge of the forest, they could start fresh by first light.

And in the dark but moonlit night, Ferin thought she saw a large animal loping beside them some distance away. It was too large to be a Warg and Gandalf's quick words for Bilbo to take no notice clued her in that it was Beorn who kept pace with them and so she let him be. Promises were promises.

They had managed to rest for a few hours before dawn and they started early the next day, seeing the forest entrance nearing. When they arrived in the evening, there were arguments and sorrow for the reason that the ponies were to be returned and Gandalf was to leave them.

Ferin left them to their hysterics and ventured closer to the forest entrance. In the waning light she made out two bowed trees twisted together forming a gnarled arch that covered a narrow path, one that Beorn had warned them to use.

They would enter Mirkwood in the morning and there she would travel near the Wood-elves and although Beorn and Gandalf had not said it, the avoidance of the main path could only mean that the one they would take was made by something or someone else. It had to be Elves.

She could only hope they would not encounter them.

"Worried?" Vala asked, resting an arm on her friend's shoulder. Ferin grunted in response and turned away. Supper was to be had and plans were to be made.

The next morning, the protests at Gandalf's departure had increased but he still refused to stay. When he rode away, Ferin could not help rolling her eyes at his persistence in saying good-bye and to stay on the path.

The packs were redistributed and skins were filled with water and they marched into the dark forest in single file. The path was narrow and the light incredibly dim, even at high noon when the sun was at its strongest above them.

After an hour, the entrance was a mere pinprick of light behind and the quiet surrounding them was thick. No one talked or sang. There was little to say in this place.

Longer still and the few streams of light that had managed to hit the roots and leaves beneath their feet vanished. All that was left was the dimness and the odd scuttle and rustle of something just beyond the trees where they could not see.

They began to hate the forest then. This place took away good spirits and sank into your soul to bury itself there.

Ferin thought of Radagast when she became aware of the strings of web in the branches above and around them. One of the few snippets she remembered from when she had turned back... He'd been talking to the Wizard about how sick the forest had become.

"_Spiders Gandalf... giant ones_..."

But no webs crossed their path so there was a small hope and they continued on. Some of the Dwarves paused a time or two to catch their breath or take a small drink, the thick air more suffocating than a Hobbit hole or Dwarf mine and Ferin found herself having passed a few to end up behind Thorin. His broad back held determination and Ocrist bumped lightly against the leather and fur of his coat when he stepped over roots and fallen branches.

And so this was how they spent their days, marching in the gloom, Ferin watching Thorin's back and restraining herself from touching him whenever he looked about to see that they seemed to get no further.

The nights were the worst of all though; the dark so thick they could not see anything but the eyes that peered from the trees. They tried to light a fire the first few nights but the large black moths had been unbearable. And the eyes...

Ferin tried not to think about it. A night watch had been set up, the idea a bit pointless regarding the actual watching of anything but ears were sharp and the sounds kept them alert and ready.

Days and days passed and food supplies thinned. They began to get anxious, wasting arrows on squirrels only to find them inedible. Water ran dry and the hunger began to worry their stomachs but they had to keep moving. The end must be near.

One night, Ferin's visions crept up once more. In the darkness of her sleep, she found herself in a _room full of treasure. It gleamed brightly, a wonderful sight to see but it wasn't gold that had her gaze captured, it was an older Dwarf, grey in the beard amongst it all, obsession clear in his eyes._

A sickness_, something whispered. The image shifted but the room was the same, only the gold was scattered now, piled in different places and it was Thorin that stood amongst it, that same look in his eyes_.

Sitting up with a gasp, Ferin opened her eyes to the darkness around her, the glowing eyes watching, always watching. Something grabbed her hand and she jumped.

"It is only I," Thorin murmured, and Ferin remembered he'd had watch. She felt for his upper arm and then gave it a heavy thump for his actions. He grunted but said nothing of it.

"It was only a nightmare," she whispered, hand still gripping his for an anchor in the pitch black.

"A vision?"

"Yes." He was silent at her answer and she could feel his curiosity under the wariness. Did he really want to know? Did it affect him? How would she tell him that she saw him fall to the same sickness of his grandfather...? The sickness that had led Smaug to the great halls to claim his prize?

She couldn't. And so they stayed that way, Ferin unable to sleep and Thorin continuing his watch. They didn't let go of each other. They couldn't, not in this dark place. Contact was the only thing to ground them.

* * *

When they came upon the river, it seemed to go downhill from there. Bombur had fallen, the arrows had been wasted and now they had to carry their companion further, hungry and thirsty and desperate for the end of the path.

Four days later, they were down to the last scraps of food and still Bombur slept with a smile on his face. They put him down and Ferin panted harshly at the effort. He was a _very_ large Dwarf. The trees had changed slightly but there was still no obvious end. Thorin moved them on again and Ferin growled and heaved Bombur up with his brother and cousin. Her shift of carrying him was nearly over.

A further two days and the light was better, the trees different but still no end. They cursed and collapsed at the base of a huge tree and Thorin decided that someone must go up to the top to see.

Poor Bilbo was the lightest of them all and so he climbed and climbed and Ferin's heart jolted every time he nearly fell until he was there. They called up many times for him to tell of what he saw but there was no response for a while and when he came down they groaned that there was no end in sight.

"But there has to be!" Vala said desperately. "The trees have changed and so has the light, it has to be near!"

They argued for a while but eventually settled for the night, and the next day they awoke to the rain and a crying, confused Bombur. He wailed and lamented the loss of his dreams of food and talked endlessly about each scrap he'd been eating.

They were all at the end of their tether and this was too much. Bofur stepped over to his brother and even he, kind Dwarf that he was could only say, "I love you very much, brother, but if you keep going on about food so help me, I'll clatter you across the head with my axe!"

But Bombur continued and they got up, tightened their belts and walked onwards for there was nothing else to do. Ferin's stomach ached, her limbs strained to move and her head pounded but they had to move on, they had to.

Balin was the first to spot the fire up ahead and before Ferin could comprehend what he'd said, they were off to investigate. When they got closer, they realised the light was far off their path. There were many arguments about if they should go and if so, who would go from amongst them.

"We should not go at all," Ferin said, squinting with the pain of her head, voice rough from lack of water. There could only be one thing that would explain this. "They are Wood-elves. I would not go near them."

But no one paid heed to her, not even Vala. Ferin was nearly left behind when they all turned and plunged into the trees. "Wait, you daft - !"

She caught up to them as they slowed near the clearing, watching the merry Wood-elves around by the fire. The smell of food was indeed enticing but they couldn't just –

She was pushed with the others when the scrambled forwards without thought and the ensuing panic grated on her ears. Her head was killing her.

"Shut up!" she shouted sharply and they silenced in their scuffles, breathing heavily in the dark. "Calm yourselves or we'll never find each other. Who is by me?"

"Dori," Dori said quickly and she reached out to touch his arm. He clung to her gratefully. "Someone else speak, but one at a time."

"I'm here," Kili said from her far right.

"Move towards my voice then and take whoever you find with you."

And so it went for the next few minutes until all were accounted for but then Dori released her and said he spotted more lights. Ferin sighed when they moved off. They would not listen. They walked in single file, each ones hand on the back of the one in front and Ferin found herself third in line behind Thorin and Bilbo.

"No rushing forward this time," Thorin said warningly. "No one is to stir from hiding 'til I say. I shall send Mister Baggins alone first to talk to them. They will not fear him. Go on," he urged Bilbo. "You will be fine; we are here to watch for danger."

"This is a mistake," Ferin said, frowning at poor Bilbo. The Hobbit walked forward only for someone to push him into the clearing. He never had a chance. The light vanished and they panicked once more. Ferin was shoved against a tree and banged her head.

"For the love of – Stop it, all of you!"

When they finally found each other, they could not find Bilbo. At least, not until Dori tripped over him in the dark. He'd been asleep like Bombur, dreaming of food.

And then Kili saw more lights and they went again, rushing off. When she caught up she spotted the Elf King and it was Thorin who stepped forward.

"No!" she cried, running to pull him back but it was too late. The light was gone and embers and dust were kicked up into their faces, blinding them. Ferin fell back and was knocked aside by one of the others, striking her head on a log.

* * *

In the midst of the nothingness, Ferin began to hear something. It sounded like Bilbo. He was calling and singing, his voice all around her but she could only make out part of his song.

_Attercop! Attercop!_

_Can't catch me!_

_Old Tomnoddy..._

_Here am I, naughty little fly..._

Attercop? Ferin tried valiantly to wake up, to push the haze of sleep and the pain in her head away. Why did she feel so groggy?

Something was tight around her and breathing was difficult and she couldn't open her eyes.

A few moments later, she swayed oddly and bounced and then the air became clearer.

"Quickly!" Fili said, cutting away...

"Spiders web?"

"Yes, quickly, they'll return soon!"

In the time it took for Ferin to escape the sticky substance and climb up onto the branch to help the others, it became very clear what was going on. They'd been caught by the spiders and hung for dinner.

Pulling her sword from its sheath proved awkward when a piece of web was found wrapped around the handle but a sharp pull and the release of the blade allowed the steel to sever the silk. She quickly and carefully cut down the others before Bilbo hurried off to distract the returning beasts.

The fight that followed was terrible. There were hundreds of them and the entire company was weak and groggy from their poison but Bilbo, fantastic, brilliant Bilbo came to their rescue and drove them off. They ran and ran until they could run no more and Ferin collapsed beside Dwalin to catch her breath.

And it was Dwalin who noticed Thorin's disappearance and Ferin's heart skipped a beat. They worried and panicked and thought of images of where he could be, of what was left of him if the spiders had kept him but Ferin sat very still and thought.

"Bilbo," she said quietly, for the Hobbit was to her right and quiet himself, a worried frown on his face. He turned to her. "How many of us did you see in the trees? How many sacs?"

"Um..." He thought frantically for a moment. "Fourteen, I think."

Twelve Dwarves and two women. Ferin nodded and moved over to sit by Vala, replacing her sword in her sheath on the way. When the Dwarves settled into a fitful sleep, for they could not move any more to look for their King, Ferin nudged her friend.

"I have to check something."

"What? What do you mean? Check what?"

"I have a hunch on where Thorin is but I don't want to bring you all in case I am wrong."

"You – " She stopped and scowled but held her tongue. By the look on Ferin's face there would be no way to change her mind. "Fine. Take care, your eyes are bloodshot and you are covered in soot."

Ferin nodded, not willing to tell her friend that her vision was blurred in her right eye from the soot and her limbs weighed heavy with the poison. "I will return if I can."

"If you can?"

Ferin hesitated. "Remember I told you I borrowed my swords from some Elves?"

"Stole them, you mean."

Ferin raised an eyebrow and said nothing.

Vala gasped. "You _did not _steal those from the Elven King!"she hissed incredulously.

"Borrowed," Ferin insisted, rising. She squeezed her friends shoulder and turned away into the dark forest, Vala watching her disappear.

How could someone be so stupid!


	12. Apologies? I think not!

**A/N: Oh I enjoyed writing this one!**

**Thank you to my followers and reviewers:**

**SummerAngelz: Thank you for your reviews, I'm happy you're enjoying the story!**

**DarknessMakesMeSmile: Very interesting name! I so very much want to tell what I have planned but I have to keep it in! It's very hard not to blurt out what's going to happen in this story! So hard!**

**MugglebornPrincesa: I apologise profusely if I made you feel like you were bugging me! I didn't intend for my comment to seem like I don't appreciate you're curiosity. I only meant that you were a consistent reviewer and that makes me very happy! I want to keep everyone in suspense but I also want to blurt out what I have planned as well so I have to keep telling myself, 'No! Do not even think of letting those fingers type out your secrets! Bold Blue!'**

**Let's all hope we don't get seasick from all the bobbing barrels, ahoy!**

**Blue xx**

* * *

She'd been found easily enough by a troupe of guards not far from the others.

They'd recognised her immediately and she gave no resistance when they bound and blindfolded her. She said not a word when they spoke quickly in Elvish, a language she had never really made an effort to understand, and she'd complied with them easily when they urged her forward towards their home.

They had directed her with care around trees and rocks onto an Elvin path and they walked for a long while before the thump of wood could be heard under her feet when they crossed over the bridge to the cave entrance.

Not half an hour later, Ferin was left in what felt like a large room. There was only the barest sound of ruffled clothing either side of her to indicated someone's presence; her guards. The blindfold they'd refused to release her from itched terribly and her shoulders ached from the binding of her wrists behind her, but Ferin stood her ground, breathing deeply and quietly.

"So," a voice said in front of her and a rustle of cloth against cloth reached her ears. Footsteps followed, light but definitely there. "I didn't think I would see you in these parts again after what you did."

He was closer now and his voice came from above her.

"Have you nothing to say for yourself?"

Ferin did not speak and there was a moment of silence before a light touch on her temple made her flinch. The hand removed the blindfold with surprising care. The light, though dimmer than the sunlight outside, was harsh upon her abused eyes. Squinting to adjust, she looked at the Elf standing tall above her. Vision still blurred from the soot and embers in her right eye, Ferin had to carefully tilt her head to take in the Elvin King.

He wore clothing of dark greens and browns, a long coat of fine material that Ferin suspected she would never see outside of his or Lord Elrond's people. His pale skin and fair hair were complimented by his crown of berries and red leaves.

His pale blue eyes ran over her features rapidly, lingering upon her hair and clothes.

"You have no apology for me? The last one was rather lacking in sincerity. I would like a proper one." He was watching her, fingers rubbing the material of the blindfold absently.

"I am not here to apologise."

He frowned. "Then why have you returned?"

"You hold someone dear to me and I would like him released."

He didn't answer for a moment, bringing the blindfold up to run through the fingers of his other hand, threading it continuously in thought. "What is the Dwarf Prince to you and why do you travel with him?"

"You hold someone dear to me and I would like him released."

"That does not answer my question."

"You hold someone – "

"You have some nerve returning here," he said sharply, now angry at having two people defy him without care in such a short space of time. He brought the long strip of material to his side, hand clenching around it. "I should have your apology."

"You will not get one," Ferin said evenly, keeping him within her clearer vision. Her right eye was beginning to sting and the ache in her shoulders increased the longer she stood there. She was so tired.

"I welcomed you into my home (Ferin scoffed at this) in your journey back from Dale and all you offered were cruel words. I have done nothing to you or your kin. You should not have the impudence to insult me!"

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Ferin was pleased to note he was rather ugly when he snarled.

"Your greed brought my words forth. It was not I who abandoned the Dwarves at Erebor."

"How dare you speak to me this way! It had nothing to do with you."

"You do not deserve an apology. You were a coward; a greedy being who only wanted what was not his to have and when it was no longer there to be looked upon, _you turned away_.You abandoned them to their Fate."

"I should throw you in my dungeons," he snapped, turning away to stride back to his throne.

"You have done that also, it holds no fear for me."

He growled and turned sharply, throwing away the blindfold to tower above her. His eyes rapidly took in her soot covered face and bloodshot eyes. His face abruptly smoothed into a neutral expression. "Tell me why you're here," he said more calmly, a persuasive tone entering his voice.

As if she would fall for that. His 'charm' had no hold on her.

"You hold someone dear to – "

"What does Thorin son of Thrain son of Thror mean to you?" he growled with gritted teeth, valiantly trying to hold his temper. "Why is he dear? Where do you go?"

Ferin paused looking away from his gaze, trying to look contemplative. "Why do you want to know so badly?"

He regarded her carefully, searching her expression for an oncoming deception. "You trespassed in our forest and disturbed my people. And I know you would not come this way for no reason so it must be something important." He held out a hand to the guard on her left and the warrior handed him Ferin's... the Elvin swords. "You would not have come with _these_."

She can see him thinking that he has her trapped now, that she will have to tell or he will not let them go. Ferin shifted her stance and slumped her shoulders in an act of defeat and resignation, glancing away to the extravagant furniture dotted strategically about the room. She had to play for time for a moment.

Before she'd been captured (and before she'd told Vala she was leaving), Ferin had stolen a quick tearing of paper from Ori's book along with his ink pen without the young Dwarf's notice. An idea had come to her as a possible reason for their travel and she could only hope it would convince the Elf King to release them.

They Elves had found her just as she'd finished scribbling a hastily worded message on the parchment. There was no way to hide it properly so she had been forced to fold it and keep it in her palm.

It was her thought that, should she pass or manage to see Thorin before Thranduil dumped her into a cell, she could give Thorin the message so he wouldn't be left floundering when the King asked him to confirm her story.

Facing the King now, she had to say her piece lest he believe her to be lying. So she said the only thing that had come to her as reasons for their travelling companions and weaponry.

"We are to be married," she began and Thranduil blinked, his hand dropping low to let the straps of her scabbards hang near to the floor. "He is still royalty to his people and we are to marry, so we travel to my home near Lake-town to retrieve my things before returning to Ered Luin. His companions travel with us for protection as the lands are no longer safe."

This condensed into the horribly worded message on the note as: _We are betrothed. Travel to my home. Return Ered Luin._

There was a silence and Ferin kept her gaze as guarded as possible in the face of such a lie.

The Elvin King frowned. "Put her in one of the lower cells," he said dismissively. "I have to think on this. I will not believe you outright and until I do, you are to remain here indefinitely. Either that, or you will remain here until your tale changes or my doubts win."

Ferin swallowed carefully. He hadn't believed her outright but it was a close thing. He'd also not specified the cell to take her to, so she had a hope of passing Thorin. The lower cells were where she had ended up the last time she'd been here and she had a feeling Thorin was in the furthest one where she had spent many a night carving the passage of time into the walls. He would be suited to no other cell but the deepest and darkest in the eyes of the King.

The guards took hold of her and led her away down winding tunnels, lower and lower. When she reached the entrance to the lowest cells, another guard took their place and lead her inside. It was cold and dark and empty save for the presence of one person down at the furthest corner. She knew immediately that it was Thorin. He had a certain presence even when he couldn't be seen.

_Now to get the parchment to him._ Unfortunately her hands were bound.

"I know he is here," she murmured to the Elf guard who had accompanied her this far. He looked kind enough and he'd taken care to steer her with her bound arms, (he'd also not been there to witness her insult of the King a second time) so perhaps he would help a woman see 'her love'. "Please, a moment to see him. He is to be my husband and I thought him lost to me."

The guard hesitated so she tried a last ditch attempt. Her bound arms helped to affect a pained look when she whispered one of the few words in Elvish she knew. "_Please._"

He pursed his lips and glanced behind to see if any of his fellows were about before nodding sharply. He even unbound her hands. Not pausing to allow him to change his mind, Ferin made for Thorin's cell quickly, the parchment folded and ready in her palm. Looking in through the bars at the top window on the door, Ferin could just make out with her good eye the slumped shape of the Dwarf King as he sat despondently on the cell bed. He looked ragged, lost and hungry. They'd removed his furs and had bound his hands.

The guard gave her time, slowly walking down to her along the cells as if he had to check on other prisoners. She wouldn't have long.

"Thorin!" she whispered hurriedly, cautious of drawing attention with the echoes of the stone. His head jerked up sharply, eyes widening at seeing her.

Ferin gripped the bars and ushered him over, one eye on the guard. He was closing. Thorin seemed to understand her urgency and quickly went up to the bars, bound hands coming up by her own.

"What – "

She shook her head sharply, eyes shifting meaningfully to the left. His mouth snapped shut. "How are you faring?"

He frowned and his fingers reached through the bars to touch the skin below her injured eye. Ferin immediately took that opportunity to slip her hand in his to pull it away, the parchment scraping against his palm but he wasn't quick enough to grab it without notice. The Elf guard drew closer.

"I... fare well considering..." He trailed off, obviously trying to play along but not sure how to approach the situation. The guard was one cell away now so Ferin quickly reached through the bars and slipped the parchment behind his hear in the motion of tucking his hair away from his face; a loving gesture for the guard to see.

Thorin took her wrist in his hand, looking at her carefully before moving it in front of his mouth, lips brushing off the backs of her fingers. Another gesture for the guard.

"I'm afraid I must bring you to your cell, my lady."

Ferin nodded solemnly, removing her hand from his.

The guard led her away and Ferin tucked her head to her chest, hoping the guard would take it as her not being able to bear being separated.

* * *

The next day, Thorin was called forth to confirm her story and soon after, the guards came for her as well. They bound her hands like before, to her annoyance, but she forced herself to say nothing, and when she arrived to the throne room, Thranduil was on his throne eating berries and talking quietly to another Elf.

In the far corner of the room, Thranduil's son Legolas was watching over Thorin, the bound Dwarf sitting on a set of steps several metres from the King, trying to look impartial to his treatment.

"You have some time with your betrothed," the Elf guard said, ushering her toward Thorin. "Be mindful you are being watched by the King. Manners are of upmost importance here."

Ferin took that to mean anything from, 'don't insult our King again,' to 'don't paw all over each other, the King does not want to see a vulgar display.'

Pursing her lips to refrain from rolling her eyes, she walked over to Thorin, ignoring Legolas' apologetic smile. She'd met him the last time she had been here and he'd been kind to her, despite her insult of his father. Perhaps he'd felt sorry for her. Ferin dismissed it; she'd never asked and wasn't going to now so it hardly mattered.

She did notice, however, that the young Elf was careful to keep his face out of view of his father.

"I'm happy to see you are well."

Ferin watched him warily for a moment. Her eye had gotten no better, still blurry and red from neglect but she could see him well enough out of the other. The guards had brought her food and water but no treatment or new clothing so she was still covered in cobwebs, dirt and soot. For such prim and proper Elves with fair hair and clean, expensive clothing, she'd thought they'd at least give her something for her eye.

Legolas stepped closer suddenly and Ferin backed away quickly to sit by Thorin, pressing into his side. Legolas was deterred for a moment, a fleeting look thrown across the room to see his father was immersed once more with his dealings. He stepped in front of them, making sure he looked every much a guarding Elf while she settled.

"You were right all those years ago," he said quietly. "I love my father dearly but his choice was not the right one. He deserved your words for his decision regarding the Dwarves. It was not right to turn away in such a time of need."

Thorin tensed beside her and Ferin turned her head towards his shoulder, trying to look like the supportive companion she'd claimed to be. _Why was he saying this?_

Legolas smiled good-naturedly, not seeing her confused expression. "I am glad you stole my swords when you left. I was always more fond of the bow anyway."

Ferin pressed closer and Thorin hesitated before he followed to her her movements, offering more space by dropping his shoulder and tilting his head towards her.

Ferin did not notice, thoughts turning rapidly. Legolas had obviously managed to persuade his father to allow him stand guard for this moment, possibly believing Ferin would feel ashamed for her terrible deeds to the Elf, his son, who had been kind to her when she had first arrived so many years ago. The humiliation that had been dealt to Thranduil, that such a small woman, often drunk, angry and insulting could steal his son's swords without them knowing, was enough for him to abhor her for the rest of his long life.

"Borrowed," rumbled Thorin and Ferin's thoughts halted in surprise.

"I am sorry?"

"She _borrowed_ the swords."

Ferin huffed out a laugh. She hadn't expected that.

"Ah," Legolas said, smiling briefly, confused at the Dwarf's sudden enmity. "Of course." He looked to his father once more. The King was watching them now. "You will not have much longer I'm afraid. My father still doubts your sincerity. I believe you will be separated again and I cannot tell you for how long."

They nodded solemnly and the young Elf turned away to give them some privacy. Ferin nearly scoffed at the word, feeling the King's heavy gaze fixed in their direction.

Thorin turned his head to her and they were suddenly pressed temple to temple. "Borrowed?" she asked him, bringing her mouth as close as possible to his ear should they be overheard. Elves had good hearing after all.

He hummed in response. "Your writing is terrible when you are in a hurry. You are lucky I could read it at all."

She smiled wryly. "Sorry. I'm not a lovely scribe like Ori. I suspect he won't be pleased with me that I lost his pen and tore his paper. Did he question you much?"

"Extensively. I had to tell a few untruths."

"Oh?"

"He asked how long we had been together and where we first met?"

Ferin grimaced in sympathy. "Did you have trouble?"

"No. I am reluctant to speak of any of my companions so it was not difficult to be convincing. He became insulting when I would not tell him everything."

"He doesn't deserve to know," she agreed. "Even if we were..." Ferin didn't want to say the words out loud just in case. "It is none of his business."

"He said he would watch us interact to see our truth but I do not know what he expects."

Thorin sounded frustrated and angry at this and Ferin silently agreed for they were playing house to an audience that would imprison them for the rest of their days if they failed. How were they supposed to act like intimate lovers if they were still essentially strangers to each other? Despite the conversations and pledges several weeks ago, they had not grown any closer for the road was dark and forbidding and the journey heavy on their minds.

Ferin sighed and tried to imagine Thorin as an intimate partner. It wasn't difficult and she had to restrict her thoughts to something more tame and attainable in the eyes of the Elvin King.

"If you could..." she began, swallowing at what she was going to ask him. The heat rose to her cheeks and bloomed down her neck but she forged on. If she didn't, they may not get out of this place and only Aule knew where the rest of the company were. _Probably captured at this stage as well. _"If you could imagine someone else, we may yet get through this moment."

Thorin shifted, pulling his head back to look at her. She couldn't meet his gaze, instead staring at his dark blue tunic that pleated slightly at the shoulder.

"Why do you think of yourself this way?"

Ferin shook her head, words of protest on her tongue. "Now is not the time to discuss this, he is watching."

His hands came up to take hold of her chin, encouraging her head up. He traced his thumb under the skin of her eye again. "Is it as bad as it looks?"

Ferin chewed the inside of her cheek, refusing to meet his eyes. "I... I do not see well out of it."

His grip of thumb and forefinger tightened on her chin before he allowed his forehead to drop to hers. He released a sigh.

"What happened to all of you?"

Glad of the change in subject, Ferin told him the parts she remembered quickly, mindful of their time together. He was quiet for several moments and she could practically hear him thinking. Risking a glance up, she was surprised to find his blue gaze on her own.

"We have spent too long this way," he murmured.

He brushed his nose against hers, like a lover would to seek comfort, and Ferin's breathing stuttered when he moved to her neck, lips brushing her cheek. "Take care. I.." She cleared her throat in embarrassment. "I am woefully out of practice at this so I will not be convincing. Especially if he is watching."

"There were carvings on the wall," he rumbled back, the change of topic jarring enough to distract her. _Subtle_, she thought with amusement. His breath was hot against the skin of her neck. "Lines and symbols near the floor by the bed."

"They are mine," she said, swallowing. His lips traced up her neck to her ear.

"I counted them." Ferin's breath hitched when his nose brushed the join of her jaw and neck. He paused, curious but mindful of their show. They would not have much longer.

She'd had lovers who'd never found that spot, she mused unhappily and he'd found it by chance and false intimacy. She had poor luck indeed.

"You remained here for six months?" Honing in on the skin he pressed firmer with his long nose and she hissed, trying to shove him away from that area with a tilt of her head.

"I did. Stop that."

He ignored her. "How did you get out? There must be a way."

"I played nice and begged his forgiveness – not that I wanted it – because I could not stay here any longer. I – don't – " He'd scraped his teeth along the same spot and she bit her lip to keep silent, belly tensing when a shot of arousal ran down her skin to her lower abdomen. She growled. "I gave him a false apology and he escorted me out."

He pulled back a bit to look at her incredulously. Ferin took a moment to breathe, dazed from his assault. Heat prickled her skin and she was _throbbing_ insistently. Years of nothing _remotely_ arousing happening to her body left her on edge quite quickly.

_Calm yourself, you silly woman, you're being watched._

"You were escorted out of his own kingdom," he said carefully, "After insulting him and carrying his son's stolen – _borrowed - _swords?"

"Pretty much, yes," she agreed, taking several deep breaths. He smiled. Ferin blinked. He was smiling, _genuinely_ _smiling_; lovely white teeth and everything.

She probably looked shocked. She definitely felt shocked. She was almost thankful that Legolas interrupted them at that moment to bring them back to their cells, for the King would have known something was up straight away.

* * *

Days passed but they weren't summoned again. Thranduil had obviously intended to keep them and whatever odd moment she and Thorin had had faded with this knowledge. He had not believed them and she was to be left on her own again down in this gloom. They could not even communicate, for they were too far apart.

She sank into a depression quite quickly. The days were spent staring at walls, eating, staring at the door, and desperately wanting to break the silence. She had been restless at first, body used to being on the move but that faded after a few days. There was nothing to do but think and stare and eat. They still did not treat her eye or give her better clothing so the grim built and her eye continued to be useless.

It only became worse when the visions returned. She had not been prepared for them but they had come rapidly and without care, ravishing and tearing and playing out again and again, merciless to her pleas to stop.

They continued for two weeks straight. Every night she witnessed a death; her own or one of the others. Thorin died from severe wounds in a tent or he was run through with a sword or trampled or swarmed by Goblins and Orcs and Wargs...

Each time he fell, a part of her was chipped away. If she interfered, his death would change. He would die by another means or he would live and she would die in his place

The death of Fili and Kili hit her as hard as it had the first time. To see the young handsome boys cut down, lifeless and cold; the world void of their laughter and warmth...

The first vision of Vala had been hard to bear. She'd been swarmed, cut down or shot down but these were less frequent than the others but the more they played out, the more Ferin realised that if she encountered her friend in these visions of battle, it was always where Dwalin had been absent from her side in his duty to his King.

If Ferin was helping Thorin, Dwalin was protecting Vala and both her friend and the burly Dwarf survived.

It had been the same for Bofur and Bifur. If she left them alone, they came out with fewer injuries than if she'd helped them.

In one vision, Legolas had been by Kili and Fili's side and the brothers had survived, albeit with a few serious injuries.

In another, a large bear had knocked Thorin aside before taking down the Warg that had born down upon him. Ferin had died here, having had no shielding from a flurry of arrows. The bear had knocked a clear path with his bulk and had left her open to assault.

They continued on in this fashion, changing with the slightest choice. Once she'd made the first observation, the visions began to come more frequently, the urgency forcing her awake more often, even during the day.

And once they had started during the day, they didn't seem to want to stop. Over and over they played out, heedless to her exhaustion and distress and Ferin could only curl in a corner, knees pulled in tight, head pressed against the wall, hoping she would not go mad.

She didn't _understand_. How was she to help them? What choices were the right ones?

One day, after her breakfast was delivered by the kind guard from weeks before, Ferin sat staring at the wall. Breakfast was unseen by her glazed eyes. The damp crept into her bones and her skin was covered in grime but all went unnoticed. All Ferin had the energy to do was blink heavily in the dim light of the torches outside her door.

The Elf could only stare at her through the bars. She sat in the corner, partially hidden in the shadows of the bed, knees bent and head resting on the wall. The woman who had pleaded with him to see her betrothed was nothing but a shell now. Dark skin sat under her empty, bloodshot eyes and cracked lips split and bleeding from biting them to keep her sobs quiet. He'd grown increasingly concerned by her night terrors and distress but he had his orders and he would not disobey his King, so he left her to stare at the wall.

And in the dark cell, Ferin's mind whispered the words of Moira. "_Think before you act."_

Resigned to the idea, Ferin remained where she was and allowed the visions free reign, no longer able to see anything but the images over and over. Each gruesome detail was watched, each feeling was felt, each death was paid, each path was remembered...

And she watched them again and again and again and she thought...

And then she _saw._

* * *

One night Ferin heard whispers down the corridor. The effort of pushing herself up exhausted her but it had to be done. When she managed to walk slowly to the door, she peered out from her bars and strained to see Thorin's cell, eyes watering with the effort of staying open. Unfortunately she could not see from her blind side so it took a few moments for her to spot a familiar curly head making its way towards her.

Bilbo passed Ferin's cell and she shot out a hand to grab him before he put on that damn magic ring of his.

"Bilbo!" she hissed, voice cracking through lack of use. The little Hobbit started violently. "It's only me."

"_Gods_... Ferin? What's happened to you?"

Ferin did not let him go, cold, cramped fingers not wanting to part from his warmth. She hadn't had any contact in weeks bar the guard who left her meals and she was beginning to go mad without company. "I need you to do something for me."

He nodded his head hesitantly. "Of course. I'll try."

"I have faith in you." She tried to smile but it hurt. "The others, are they here?"

"Yes."

"Alright. I need you to find a way out. Look for tunnels lower down. I think a river runs here and I know the Elves must use it but I don't know where. Watch for patterns and listen for guards and what they talk about. Follow them if you can."

He nodded, fingers reaching up to help her let go of his coat. She did so reluctantly, energy waning but she had one more thing to ask of him. "Can you get me some ink and parchment?"

"What? What for?" he whispered, shuffling on the spot. He had an eagerness to leave this place where he must burgle food and drink and he had a lot of thinking and sneaking to do.

"It doesn't matter now, I just need it. When I am finished you will have to give it to someone for me."

"I – alright. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Ferin nodded and watched him vanish. She could only hope her idea worked.

* * *

When he returned, he left her three sheets of parchment, a pen and an ink bottle. "Keep looking and return to me tomorrow."

He nodded and left and Ferin began to write. It took time and a lot of effort but it was her only hope.

The next day, the three rolls of parchment were filled with a mixture of words in Dwarvish, the Common-tongue and whatever other language she could think of. It was the only way to ensure that if someone saw it they would think it nonsense without reading further. She even signed it with Gandalf's nickname for her; Failariel, meaning borrower in Elvish. He'd joked about it once with Elrond but she'd never taken to it. She could only hope the Elf she intended it for would understand.

Bilbo returned that afternoon. Ferin had made it to the door again, leaning heavily on the wood, fingers gripping the bars for support.

"I may have found a way out but I must act quickly," he said in lieu of greeting her.

Ferin nodded and thrust the scroll out to him. "Take this to Legolas, Thranduil's son before you go. And do not read it. I will know."

Bilbo stared at her and then at the parchment, before he took it hastily, slipping off without another word.

* * *

Two days later, the visions began to slow and Ferin finally caught a few hours sleep. The exhaustion pressed so heavily upon her that it took a good few moments to understand someone was shaking her awake. Groggily, Ferin opened her eyes to Thorin, Bilbo behind him and looking around frantically by the cell door.

"Hurry, hurry!" the Hobbit said.

Thorin helped her stand and Bilbo locked the door behind them. They moved off in single file to Bilbo's way out. Vala came to stand by her friend when they arrived in the cellar.

"Ferin!" she gasped, now seeing her in the brighter light. Bilbo was ahead trying to sort out the Dwarves and the barrels but several looked back at them. "What have they done to you?"

Ferin leaned heavily against the wall. When she spoke, her voice was raspy. "They have done nothing to me, bar leaving me alone."

"You look like you haven't slept in weeks! And you're so pale and what's happened to your eye?" Vala stepped forward and fussed at her, checking for other injuries and smoothing her hair like an overprotective mother. "You look half mad!"

Ferin wanted to smile. She probably was half mad by now but they were nearly at the end; she would push on to leave this place and she would worry about herself then. "Get in a barrel, before Bilbo has a heart attack."

Vala, distracted by the dread of plunging into the deep water in a rounded casket, stepped back to watch the others with apprehension. Most of the Dwarves were being stuffed in singularly with straw and whatever else Bilbo could find but they were short of barrels.

"I'm not getting into one of those on my own!" Vala said firmly.

Ferin sighed, knowing her friend was not often fond of deep water. "We have no other choice."

Dwalin nodded near them. "It's alrigh', lass. We'll make it, just pick one where you'll fit and we'll be out of this hell in no time."

Vala hesitated but eventually did as he said. Bilbo placed her with Ori before coming to fetch Ferin and she soon found herself alone in a large one that could fit two Dwarves; too much space to bump around in but Bilbo had already shoved Thorin in her direction before continuing to pack the rest in.

Thorin climbed in and it was a bit of a tight fit but it was feasible. He growled and tried to pace in his impatience to leave but Ferin was busy thinking how they could fit their legs. They'd have to sit down for the lid to be secure and she had a feeling it was going to be a long and rocky journey.

When Bilbo came to replace their lid there were whispered arguments between the two stubborn beings until Bilbo told Thorin to be quiet and sit, followed by him instructing Ferin to straddle his lap. Ferin, too tired to do anything but what he said, especially after his favours, did so.

Thorin fidgeted and continued to do so even when the lid was secured. He didn't stop until she prodded him in the side. The Elves were coming and they had to remain still and quiet.

There was laughter and talk and grumbling before the Elves began to sing. Ferin rolled her eyes, happy that they were going to see the back of Elves very soon. Cramped as they were sitting down face to face, Ferin thought it was significantly worse when they began to roll.

Over and over they spun, Thorin's weight and her own shifting over each other at a slow enough pace to be jarringly awkward. Ferin did her best to brace against the rounded walls and Thorin did the same. It was an improvement until the sickening drop into the water.

And it wasn't until they were in the water, clinging to each other as the barrel rocked horribly in its momentum that Ferin thought of Bilbo.

If he had helped to secure them all, who had helped him?


	13. Families That Stick Together

**A/N: I apologise but the more I read over the last chapter, and the direction it was leading me to in subsequent chapters, the more I wanted to change it. So I did. Sorry! The gist hasn't changed but it is important. You'll probably have to read it again. My bad. So sorry.**

**Also! For those of you curious (or not), I am reading The Hobbit as I go to obtain details and the like so I don't mess up so it is obviously an AU story anyway considering my character was never in it, the future chapters may or may not completely correlate with the book as it just wouldn't work that way so yeah... I am also writing this as I go along. No beta, very rusty grammar and/or spelling so please take all this in with that in mind so you don't end up disappointed. Thank you!**

**Also also! One last thing! Please, if you do chose to review or for those of you who review regularly, could I be bold and ask for some feedback on the romance and intimacy. I don't usually write it so I am unsure if it seems realistic and pleasing. I'm trying to make it hot enough, I swear! Then again, Thorin is hot enough to be a sun so... mmmm. Anywho!**

**Thank you to my followers and reviewers:**

**Loki'sdreamer: I have updated, my dear! Hope you enjoy!**

**LilithLieLoveHeart: Don't be sorry at all! I'm glad you enjoyed it! Hope you like this one! (I should probably tone down the exclamation marks...)**

**MugglebornPrincesa: No need to apologise. These things happen to the best of us so no worries at all. **

**Anneaa: Thank you so much!**

**BattiBeff: Thank you, my dear. Elvish prison, although generally nice (for a prison!) can still be difficult to deal with, especially with a greedy King!**

**On with the show!**

**Blue xx**

* * *

The barrel stayed dry for no more than half an hour; the straw and cloth Bilbo had managed to pack into some of the holes becoming soaked and swept away in the turbulent waters.

Ferin and Thorin clung to each other, trying their best to brace against the shifting wood. It was difficult. The barrel creaked and swayed and knocked into others but if there had been one with a Dwarf, they'd have never known by the roar surrounding them. There was nothing but rapids and thumps and their own harsh breathing.

Ferin's body _ached. _Two weeks in a cramped cell surrounded by nightmares and now stuffed in a barrel...

She was going to be ill.

The water lapped at the wood, surging up to enter any holes in small increments until there were a few inches sloshing around the bottom of their vessel, soaking into their clothes.

Further on, in and out of the daze of exhaustion, the barrels began to spin and Ferin's knees scraped the bottom when she tried to find purchase. The sting was dulled slightly by the freezing water but they'd locked up hours ago from her position; straddling Thorin was all well and good for her backside but the only way they had fit in Bilbo's urgency had been for her to kneel over him. It was proving to be a large regret.

He clung to her tighter and buried his head in her neck and Ferin focused on breathing to calm her roiling stomach. Finally, the barrel seemed to hit something and the spinning stopped but the motion didn't.

_They'd just righted themselves then_, she thought, _continuing down the river_. Daylight crept in through holes and spaces but it was still dark enough to be of little comfort. They were out away from the Elves at least.

Several hours later, the motion eased. _A calmer part of the river, perhaps_. Taking the brief respite for what it was, Ferin tried to adjust her fierce grip on Thorin's shoulders but he tensed and tightened his hold, head pressing harder against her neck.

Her arms had cramped up long ago and her eyes struggled to stay open. She wanted to move but there was no way her body was going to respond and Thorin obviously wasn't letting go for reasons she couldn't think of. The water had risen more, the barrel weighed down further and the cold had sunk into her bones. Her body had tried to keep her warm, shivering enough to make her teeth rattle but that had stopped some time ago. Now there was only numbness and sluggishness...

Ferin distantly remembered learning about feeling the cold so much you shivered... and feeling the cold so much you stopped.

Thorin didn't seem to be at that stage yet, his own body only beginning to tremble.

She wanted to talk to him, to explain what was happening to her but the effort of making sound was lost. Her weight had long rested on Thorin's lap, arms heavy over his shoulders, blue fingers trying to grip his tunic.

He shifted under her when the suddenly barrel bumped into something and they slowed considerably. Voices, though muffled, came through the wood and then there was movement once more, though this time it was deliberate.

Once the jostling ceased, it was clear they were going to be left there for the night. Ferin knew she would not last.

After a few minutes Thorin released his arms from around her, adjusting himself in the puddle of water. "Are you alright?"

She couldn't answer. Sensation was starting to fade and she couldn't keep her eyes open any longer.

"Ferin?"

She thought she may have slurred something for he pulled her backwards. The pain of her head thumping against the rounded wall of the barrel was a distant a feeling, as were the hands that were checking the skin beneath her tunic.

"You are like ice... keep warm... stay awake!"

His voice drifted in and out of her mind and he sounded concerned. That was nice.

"Ferin."

_Can't_, she thought.

"Ferin!"

_I'm sorry_.

* * *

There were hands pulling at her and a sudden bright light nearly blinded her. The scrape of the wood tore at her soaked leggings and boots before her lower body splashed into the water.

"Get her onto shore, quickly!"

She was lifted again and then there was dirt and sand under her hands, the pull of her feet dragging onto the shore.

"Is she alright?"

"What's happened?"

"By the gods, she's freezing! Oin, quickly!"

There were continued murmurs of the company around and above but Ferin couldn't open her eyes.

"Sit her up."

Large, hot hands wrapped around her arms and supported her back through her soaked tunic. Why were they so hot? What was going on?

"Rub her arms and legs, get some heat into her."

"But we're just as cold," someone protested. "It won't be enough."

"Just try!"

"Ferin, wake up! Don't go this way, please."

Someone dropped down beside her and pulled her into a hug, rapidly rubbing her arms and back and wherever they could reach. Another was doing the same to her legs.

Ferin blacked out and when she came to again, the voices were alarmed; shouting and ordering and then there was this horrible pain in her chest...

Darkness came again.

After a while, Ferin began to come around properly; sounds became sharper, sensations became clearer and her body was shivering violently. _A good sign_, she thought groggily. Opening her eyes, she found herself tucked into Vala's embrace, the woman continuing to rub her arms vigorously. The company sat nearby, some watching on, some continuing to rub her legs or back

"She's awake!" Bofur cried from his position at her feet, replacing his damp hat back on his head. He'd been worrying it between his hands constantly. They all suddenly shuffled around her and fussed, their bodies creating a small shelter of warm air.

"Lass, you gave us some worry!" Bofur said, smiling in relief and grasping her shin.

"We'd thought you lost to us," Ori said next, shuffling beside his brothers, hands worrying the collar of his sodden jumper.

"You were freezing!"

"Ice cold!"

"You wouldn't come 'round at all."

"I'd thought I'd lost you," Vala muttered sternly, hugging her tighter.

"We'll get you sorted in the village soon," Balin said comfortingly, patting Ferin on the shoulder.

"We wanted to make sure you were alright first."

"You stopped breathing." Ferin blinked at the quiet voice of Kili to her right. He was nothing but a blur but he sounded very much unlike himself. Ferin struggled to move her head to see him better.

He wouldn't look at her and his brother gripped his shoulder tightly in support, unwilling to look at her as well.

"What?" she croaked.

"You stopped breathing," he repeated, and the company went silent, all turning away to look at the ground, the water, their feet or hands; anything that wasn't her.

Vala squeezed her tighter, resting her chin on her head. "You passed out in the barrel," she began. "Thorin had no choice but to try and keep you warm until the morning and it worked for a bit. We pulled you out and you..." She took in a large breath. "You just stopped breathing. Just like that."

Ferin felt her heart drop into her stomach, breath shaky.

Bofur seemed to be the only one who could say it. "You died," he said quietly. "For a moment at least."

Fili frowned, adamant to change the subject to the more positive side of things. "It was Bilbo who brought you back. Said he'd read it in a book."

Ferin looked to the Hobbit. He was just outside the collection of Dwarves surrounding her, standing and shuffling his feet awkwardly. Ferin managed to force her arm up, hand outstretched towards him. He came to her and gasped when she pulled him down into a hug.

He returned it quickly. "Thank you," she said shakily. "I owe you a great debt."

"You don't owe me anything," he responded quickly. "Nothing at all!"

"You saved – "

"You have done more than that for me," he interrupted. "So call us even."

Ferin didn't like the idea but he seemed embarrassed by the whole ordeal so she nodded. "Very well." She would repay him another time.

"We'll have to move," Vala said.

"Yes," Balin agreed. "Time to see if Thorin has done well with the Master of the town."

Vala stood and went to lift her but the young nephews were already there, insisting on helping her into the town. They bent and lifted her with care, mindful of their own energy remaining as much as worrying for her.

Once sandwiched between them, an arm over each shoulder, they made their way steadily over the bridge and into the town.

Kili's grip was bordering on tight, his hand wrapped around her wrist over his shoulder and arm fixed around her waist. He was oddly quiet and sombre. Fili was just as quiet but his grip was more supportive and careful, expression one of determination.

Up ahead, Ferin could see the town in a restless uproar at their arrival, crowds of people near the main entrance, watching them come in.

"What has you so out of sorts?" she asked the brothers, voice scratchy but stronger than it had been. "I dislike this sorrow around you."

Kili glanced at her before looking away towards the crowd. It was Fili who spoke first. "We thought we'd lost you."

Ferin thought on this again, Ori having said the same. "But I am hardly such a loss to you for this much grief."

Kili made a sharp sound of distress. "How can you talk like that? You are very dear to us!"

"Indeed," Fili answered just as strongly. "You are one of us, now."

"You've treated us like family."

"Sung to us."

"Told us stories."

"Slept beside us, even with the offer of an Elvish bed."

"Fought with us."

"Saved us."

"You've treated us like family and it is only right that we treat you the same."

Ferin sagged in their grip at their words. They – ?

They really thought - ?

With shaky breath and burning eyes, Ferin could only thank them. They pressed their foreheads against her temples gently. Ferin reached up with shaking hands and cradled their heads, trying her hardest not to cry. Her visions had told her she'd lose them if the wrong choice was made.

She could not lose them now.

They reached the end of the bridge and were swarmed by the fawning crowd. Thorin met them there, a strange look on his face when he saw her and his sister-sons, but before she could thank him for his part in saving her from the cold, someone pulled her away and into the crowd.

"Do you see her?"

"The scar. Do you see it on her face?"

"I've heard of her."

"She hasn't been seen here though, not in some time at least."

The crowd of Men suddenly pressed in on her, staring down touching her here and there. Ferin panicked and tried to push through back to her friends. She couldn't let them overwhelm her! The last time that had happened, she'd nearly been trampled.

"Ferin!" That was Vala's voice, far to her right. Ferin tried to push harder but the solid wall of Big Folk was immovable.

"Vala!"

A group of young women suddenly clustered around her and ushered her off in another direction, away from the company and the crowd. Ferin struggled but there were five of them and they were strong. What were they doing? Where were they going?

"You're in an awful state!" one tutted, ruffling her hair and tugging at her clothes.

"We're going to help you clean up," said another enthusiastically.

"Don't worry," said the youngest kindly, dark red hair spilling over one shoulder. "We'll look after you. Others are looking after your friends."

"We're to look after you personally, by order of the Master and that lovely dark-haired Dwarf." This one tittered, grabbing Ferin's arm and directing her down another walkway towards a house. She didn't have a chance to do more than dig her heels in but even that was useless.

They entered the warm abode and Ferin was left in front of the fire in the large open sitting room. The one that had tittered stayed and supported her while others grabbed hot water and cloth.

Panicked at the thought of what they were going to do, Ferin pulled her arm out of the grip and nearly fell over an ottoman.

"I don't – " she began, only for the tittering one to ignore her.

"He was very handsome, wasn't he?"

"Which one?"

"The dark one. The King Under the Mountain. Did you see his body under those sopping clothes?" The woman, blonde hair tied back neatly, began to tug on Ferin's clothes.

"Stop th – "

"Oh he was gorgeous! Thick and muscled and – "

"I wouldn't mind giving him a tumble!" This one, a full head of curly brown hair and striking features grinned. "I wonder if he'd be up for it. Or the two younger ones!"

The others laughed and Ferin gritted her teeth, trying in vain to stop their relentless hands and bothersome chatter.

"Good Lord, look at the scars on her hands and arms?"

"She has many doesn't she, poor thing."

Ferin growled. "Excuse me – "

"It's alright, dear. We'll have you bathed and fixed before you know it and then you can go to that lovely Dwarf of yours. I was only joking about the tumble!"

"Seemed right concerned, he did. Got all angry and everything when the Master refused extra care for you and your friends."

The others moved away and dumped the cloth into the water to allow them to soak before they returned to add their hands to help remove Ferin's breeches.

"Why do you wear man's clothing?"

"A bit strange."

"Never seen it done before."

They managed between three of them to get Ferin's tunic off and there was sudden silence. "Millie, look at her back," the red headed one whispered. They turned her without care and stared for a bit before the blonde one huffed and pushed them away.

Ferin clamped her lips shut and pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth. She would not let them see her upset. This bordered on an assault but she hadn't the strength to stop them.

"We're not here to stare, ladies! She's been through something terrible from what I've heard; captured by Elves after travelling with all those male Dwarves."

"Scandalous if you ask me."

"And why is her hair so short?"

"We'll have to do something with that. Gretchin, go prepare a dress."

Ferin's eyes widened, hands still trying to pull away the fingers trying to undo her breeches."I don't – Stop! I won't have you bathe me and I'm not wearing a dress."

"Nonsense. You're a woman, it's only proper to wear a dress! I bet you'll be happier in it than these things. Can't be comfortable."

"You'll look much prettier as well once we've done your hair."

"And tidied your face."

"Can't do much about your scars though but I'm sure we could hide them with a shawl."

"Grab the breast bindings, dear."

One of them did so dutifully, untying them with ease. Ferin screeched at her and tried to elbow her in the face. "Get off! Don't you dare touch – "

A quick struggle (the women holding Ferin firmly with several tuts going on) and the bindings were removed. They gasped.

"Oh you poor thing," the blonde one whispered, covering her mouth in sympathy as they took in Ferin's scarred breast and side.

One woman missed the display, busy tugging Ferin's breeches down with a sharp tug.

And that's when the door banged open, Vala, Thorin and Bilbo crowding in the doorway. The women parted in surprise, leaving Ferin to try and support herself on weak legs with her leggings to her knees.

The only one who looked annoyed was Vala, the woman stepping forward quickly, barking at the women to move away. Bilbo was covering his eyes to try and preserve Ferin's privacy, looking entirely reluctant to be there. Thorin had walked in with a frown on his face but now he looked like he was wondering what he'd been frowning for.

Ferin was _pissed_. _Beyond _pissed! Growling low in her throat, she tugged her leggings back up and covered her chest with an arm before sending a furious gaze to one King Under the Mountain.

"What the fuck have you been telling them to do?"

Vala scowled and shooed the women out with a scolding.

"We were only trying to help," they protested.

Vala closed the door and stood guard. Bilbo kept his eyes covered and stood beside her.

Thorin frowned, stepping further into the room. "I didn't tell them to do anything."

"They said you and the Master agreed for us to be looked after!" Ferin knew the moment she'd said the words that they sounded ridiculous. It wasn't his fault that the women had been so bold and uncaring of her privacy but she was embarrassed and ashamed and so _angry_! They'd had no right!

"I did not think you would be treated this way."

"You didn't think! Of course you didn't think! You were too busy with your adoring fans out there, Mister King Under the Mountain!"

He scowled and Ferin gritted her teeth, feeling her eyes burn with unshed tears.

"They celebrate our return, as it should be! There is nothing wrong with that." Why did he sound so reasonable? Why was he trying to calm her like a startled horse?

"So you let them fawn all over you? You let them take you away from your company, who've travelled through everything with you?"

"They are looked after," he said in his defence.

"As you were obviously!" she spat, seeing his clean, dry clothes. Probably 'looked after' by more of those women, she thought before she realised what she was acting like. She felt so out of control. She was tired and weak and hungry and overwhelmed and half naked in front of the 'lovely dark Dwarf' –'

_Good Gods_! she thought in alarm. She sounded jealous! Those women had talked about him like a piece of meat to be admired, as if they had a right to him and they'd made her angry without her realising.

"They only show us kindness. Why are you being so unreasonable? These people offer us shelter and warmth. They are happy we have returned."

Ferin deflated, breathing heavily and her friend was there quickly, supporting her when her knees gave out. The burly woman put her on the ottoman and grabbed a blanket and her sopping tunic.

"We have a house ready for us. Come, we'll sort all this out there."

Ferin nodded and allowed her friend to help her to the house, Thorin and Biblo trailing after.

* * *

Once the ordeal of being assaulted and embarrassed had been over, Ferin had been much better at talking to them all. She'd quietly apologised to Thorin and had resolutely ignored the realisation she'd come to during their... _her_, argument. Thorin had seemed to understand what had happened and although she refused to talk about what they'd said and done, he and Vala just seemed to _know_.

Vala had taken her away then to help her bathe and dress before they'd all had supper. Now she sat by the fire in loose leggings and overlarge shirt, bare feet soaking up the warmth and soft carpet. Oin sat beside her, attending to her eye and the others were around the house or out at the pub. Balin, Bilbo, Vala and Thorin sat nearby while Ori and Bombur slept in one of the bedrooms. They were short on rooms and beds so some would have to share.

Ferin had had the idea of sharing with Vala her friend had pulled her aside before supper to whisper that she wanted some time alone with Dwalin. Ferin got her meaning immediately but had said nothing to the others about moving rooms. Vala wanted privacy and announcing that she'd need somewhere else to sleep made it very obvious as to what Vala and Dwalin would be up to.

"Did this go untreated all this time, lass?" Oin grumbled, opening the eyelid wide and tilting her head this way and that in the light of the fire. It was horribly inflamed and discoloured.

"Yes."

He sighed and scowled, muttering curses about Elves and their hospitality. "If I'd gotten to it sooner, I may have saved the sight. I can put a potion in there. It may give some of it back but not all. I'm not a miracle worker."

Ferin had had an idea that this would be the case but hearing it was another thing. "Do what you can, Master Oin."

He nodded and rummaged in a bag of healing supplies he'd gotten from the market that day. He pulled out a small vial with a pipette. Once uncorked and sucked up into the vial, the potion was promptly dropped onto her eye. It stung a bit but the pain was manageable.

"Don't touch it or rub it now for the rest of the night."

Ferin nodded and watched him go. After peaceful half an hour by the fire, Ferin heard the return of the others; loud singing and laughter floating in from the doorway. There were more songs and stories and drunken merrymaking before they all retired. It had been a long journey and they needed to rest for a few days.

Ferin waited until they all disappeared before venturing towards Vala's room. The moans and low murmurs of her friend and the large Dwarf brought a smile to her face. At least Vala had found companionship. Moving away, Ferin contemplated which room to go to for the night.

Bombur was loud and Bifur was sharing his room so that was a definite no. Oin and Gloin wouldn't entertain a woman in their beds (aside from the fact they were also sharing), for they were married and thought it scandalous. Fili and Kili, by the sounds coming from their room, were continuing to drink and sing songs; she'd not have peace and quiet. Ori was an option but Nori and Dori had secluded themselves in that room should anyone think to harm their little brother. A village of Men were not always united in the welcoming of strangers. Bofur looked like an option but when she'd reached his door, a low chatter could be heard; it sounded like Bilbo may have found a friend or companion of his own. Balin had the smallest room and Ferin didn't feel like disturbing the tired Dwarf. He'd been kind enough take the room as it was, so crowding him didn't seem like a fair arrangement.

That left one.

And she wasn't disturbing him after –

"You're sneaking about."

Ferin jumped in surprise at Thorin's voice. It came from her right and she turned to face him, irked at being caught. "I didn't see you," she huffed. "And I wasn't sneaking."

He hummed, arms crossed while he leaned against his doorframe. Ferin crossed her own arms and took him in. He was wearing a loose fitting shirt with his own breeches and boots, hair loosed completely to fall around his shoulders and collar bones. There was a small peek of a gold chain and skin at his throat by the opening of the shirt. He looked more relaxed than she'd ever seen him.

"I was looking for somewhere to sleep," she said finally.

He frowned in bewilderment. "You were with Vala, were you not?"

"I _was_."

He blinked. "Oh."

"Oh," she agreed, lips twitching in amusement.

"At least I know where he went then."

"He was to stay with you?"

He nodded. Ferin echoed the movement, the air suddenly turning awkward. "Right, well, I'll go and sleep on one of the chairs. Goodnight."

She turned to escape quickly.

"They are uncomfortable."

She stopped. "Well, there is little else for me, I'm afraid. Everyone seems to have paired up."

He didn't say anything for a moment. "Not everyone."

Ferin turned back around. "I'm not disturbing Balin. He – "

"I wasn't talking about Balin."

Oh. "I couldn't disturb you."

"You were willing to disturb the others."

"Um..."

"You do not wish to share my bed?"

Ferin's eyebrows shot up. She cleared her throat. "Excuse me?"

There was something in his eyes that made her think he was having her on and suddenly the atmosphere shifted and it wasn't so awkward. "Do you not wish to share my bed?" he repeated slowly.

So he wanted to play a bit of a game did he? Push her to see what she'd do? She made a show of contemplating it. "Hmm. I don't know about that. There's no good reason to share your bed, is there?"

He uncrossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "There are many good reasons," he said lowly and heat crept up to her cheeks but she held her ground, trying not to smile.

"I suppose there's warmth."

He hummed in agreement and she stepped closer.

"And a soft mattress."

A nod.

"But I won't be alone," she said forlornly.

"No."

"I won't have a large bed all to myself. There'll be a Dwarf sized lump taking up a lot of space."

He breathed deeply and Ferin stepped closer, shaking her head in 'despair'. "You could always cuddle the lump."

Ferin had to bite her lip hard at that one, tears coming to her eyes. She began to snicker and the more he kept the straight face, the harder it was to hold it in. Within seconds she was laughing so hard she couldn't breathe and Thorin had to pull her inside quickly when the sound of disturbed Dwarves rattled the other doors.

He shook his head in amusement before he moved about the room, allowing her to calm down and by the time she did, he was bootless and shirtless and fixing the bed.

Was this really happening? It wasn't until he answered that Ferin realised she'd said that out loud.

"You said you didn't have anywhere to sleep."

"Oh, well, I honestly thought you were joking. Like, _actually _joking. Didn't think you had it in you."

"I have been known to on occasion," he said simply.

"That's nice to know. You really don't mind giving up half your bed?"

"I do not." He turned and went to remove his breeches.

Ferin quickly turned away and covered her eyes. "Where did this boldness come from?"

He paused, laces undone. "I would wonder where this shyness has come from. You were bolder when you hardly knew me."

Ferin cleared her throat. "Ah. Well. I have often been told by Vala that I put up a good front in everyday things but this... uh, this intimacy is not something I am good at, despite my earlier words."

It was also different when you actually liked the man and wanted something to happen, even though it wouldn't. She was a bigger flirt when she wasn't looking for someone than she was when she was genuinely trying. She was shy and horribly awkward.

He didn't say anything for a moment and the sound of his breeches hitting the floor made her cheeks burn hotter. "Surely you have had lovers to improve your confidence."

Ferin frowned but kept her eyes covered. "Of course I have," she snapped.

"But?"

She sighed. "They've never been very good. Or interested in me as a person so they never lasted long."

When he spoke he was directly in front of her. "Change and then we'll sleep."

Opening her eyes, she saw he held up his shirt for her to change into. Her own had been worn all day and wasn't comfortable enough to sleep in; she'd also forgotten to get a spare in her room with Vala. She took it and he moved away to get into the bed (she valiantly kept her eyes above his waist for he was most defiantly naked _the bastard_) while she quietly moved to the other side of the room to change by the basin of water.

The shirt was surprisingly soft and dropped to her knees and the small mirror by the candle showed her blushing face and nervous expression. Why was she doing this to herself? He was a handsome King who had a home and family and friends and duty. She was just a travelling nobody asked to help him. The last time she'd fallen for someone, she'd been betrayed and left at the hands of the Goblins.

And her relationships before that hadn't been all that spectacular either. She'd grown up a shy thing, surrounded by people who never took to her oddness and those she found willing to entertain her only wanted one thing. And when she'd gotten her scars... well, that was the end of that. Rough lowlifes who tried to blackmail her or treated her like the dirt she walked on.

The years spent hoping things would change only for it to stay the same.

Beside the basin sat the two clasps he'd taken from his braids. She picked one up and studied the intricate detail, the shining silver that was fondly cared for. Glancing behind her, she found his head turned in her direction, eyes watching her in the dim light.

She could fall in love with that man so easily, she thought with a sigh. If she hadn't done so already. And she knew... she _knew_ she could not bear to see him die. Nor could she see herself living without him, even as a friend.

Replacing the clasp to the side of the basin, she blew out the candle and walked over and around the bed. Adjusting to the darkness took a few minutes but she could see him watching her slip under the covers. They lay side by side in silence, heads turned towards each other.

After a while, Thorin sighed and blinked heavily but he did not sleep.

"Am I bothering you?" she whispered.

"No. I do not sleep well."

Ferin didn't respond, thinking back on all the times she had seen him sleep. It wasn't often but when he did, he always looked tired and uncomfortable but resigned to it. A form of insomnia maybe or perhaps he was just troubled so often it became his body's habit. Thinking of her time alone with just nightmarish visions for company in the Elves cell, Ferin could understand the desperate need for just a few hours. Perhaps that was why he was always so irritable.

"How long has it been?"

"It seems I have always been this way. Or since the loss of Erebor at least but it has become habit to only get a few hours. I am used to it."

"Does anything help?"

"Not that I have tried."

Ferin could hear the disappointment in his voice. He sounded defeated and tired. She nodded and sighed softly.

"Come here," she said, turning onto her back. She may not get his affection as a companion but she had promised him friendship and Vala had done this once or twice for her when she'd been terribly injured or ill during a fever.

He looked to her in the dark and she patted her shoulder. "Put your head here. Come on," she chuckled softly. "Have a bit of courage, I won't hurt you."

He moved then, the slide of sheets and skin loud in the room. He carefully, hesitantly rested his head on her shoulder and she arranged his arm around her waist for comfort. Once he was pressed to her side she began to methodically run her fingers of one hand through his hair from root to tip.

After a few minutes he relaxed, sighing into her neck. She smiled and continued, closing her eyes and enjoying the soothing motions. She understood now why Vala insisted on it when Ferin was ill. It was very relaxing for both parties.

The two inhabitants of the bed did not move away from each other at any point in the night; instead they stayed curled together, oblivious to hours drifting by. The occupants of the house woke in the morning and wondered where their friend and King had disappeared to. The bustle and movement in the house did not bother them and it wasn't until half the day was gone that everyone began to worry.

It was Balin who found them and he only allowed Vala to see before he ushered the others away, content that no one was in danger.

And so they slept, undisturbed, for two days straight.


	14. Connection

**A/N: Sorry! Real life threw a ton of life at me! There was barely time to function let alone write but I managed to squeeze this in. Whew! Hope you enjoy!**

**As usual, thank you to all my followers and reviewers:**

**Loki'sdreamer: I will try to describe Ferin's injuries as best I can! She has many long scars on her back from being whipped by Goblins as well as smaller scars among them that came from the Goblin's knives. She has one large scar that starts at the base of her spine and curves around her left side up and across her left breast to her collarbone. There are small scars here and there on her arms and thighs as well as one on the right side of her forehead over her eyebrow, down the right side of her face to her cheek. Last but not least, is the burn mark on her right forearm from the dragon fire. Hope that helps!**

**LazyPhoenix: Thank you so much and sorry for the wait! Hope you like this too!**

**Samolfran: Thank you so much, my dear. I think they do deserve some happiness but there are trials on the way that may test them and a definite yes to cuddle a naked Thorin! I do be envious of Ferin there!**

**MugglebornPrincesa: I'll take your keyboard and brain meltdown as a positive sign! Thank you!**

**Marana: Thank you, my dear. I hope you enjoy the rest of the story.**

**Lady La-sara: I can only thank you for your review. It was wonderful reading it and I'm so glad you enjoy my writing and my story. I'm very glad I decided to go ahead with this when I did because this has grown more than I could have hoped and the responses I get – just overwhelming!**

** 2: I'm very glad you are enjoying it! Hope you like the update, sorry it took so long!**

**NavyReservist: I loved writing it and I'm continuing to love it so I hope you continue to do so too!**

**If I missed anyone, I apologise!**

**Onwards!**

**Blue xx**

* * *

_In the dark chamber of heated gold and Dragon's breath, a Hobbit stooped to pick something up. It shone with the beauty of a star in the night sky before it vanished into a deep pocket..._

_In the darkness of the night, the Hobbit clambered down a rope to sneak away to the Men and Elves, the glowing treasure hidden from all in a rag..._

_In the dark chamber of gold, the King of Dwarves roamed in search of his Mountain's heart, eyes roving possessively at all the wealth around him..._

_And in the darkness, Ferin watched the Hobbit find his prize._

_She watched him sneak away to Bard and the Elven King._

_She watched the illness in the Kings eyes spread and consume his heart and mind, where no words of friends could reach._

_Standing alone in worry and concern, Ferin saw the ruin of the Durin line and the banishment and grief of the brave Hobbit; and there she saw herself fade with them._

_The Mountain prospered. The Men, Elves and Dwarves became good friends. Bilbo returned home changed, the sorrow marking him like any loss would but in time it would fade._

_But what was there for Thorin? Or Fili and Kili? Or herself?_

_Standing in the shadows watching Thorin continue his searching, Ferin thought of her life. A young child abandoned and raised by a human only to lose her to old age; found by a Wizard who encouraged her to travel this realm to be taught by any race she would come across. She had fought beside Men and Elves alike against all manner of dark creatures and was still standing to this day. She had thought she had found love only to taste a bitter betrayal. In her many years few friends were made and those that stuck proved fleeting for she had either outlived them all or had moved on, searching for more... always more. Nothing ever seemed to settle her heart or mind and so she knew herself to be doomed to the path of a wanderer for the rest of her days; in search of life and love and purpose. A search for a home._

_This journey had been the most meaningful event in all of her years and yet she would die by the end of it, no matter the choice. She would die with Thorin and his nephews or she would die in their place._

_It was not right._

_It was not fair._

_She had felt the beginnings of hope in her heart; that it was possible that she would find a place amongst them._

_In the shadows, Ferin rubbed her aching heart and gritted her teeth. She would die after finally finding the will to live._

So be it,_ she thought harshly. _But I will not let you take them as well.

_And so Ferin stood in the shadows by a tall pillar of stone to the entrance of the chamber, unknowingly watching from the same spot Thorin himself had stood in his observation of his grandfather._

A quiet murmuring brought her slowly from her vision. The room was brighter now, the window on the far side of the room showing the days light through the curtains. The sun did not reach her eyes but it was warm and pleasant and the bed was very comfortable.

Unwilling to open her eyes just yet, Ferin shifted a bit to rest more on her stomach, the voices ceasing until she settled once more, and buried her head in her pillow. It was definitely Thorin speaking and after a few minutes of grogginess, her ears finally tuned in to Balin's quiet rumble. What they were talking about, she had no idea and didn't much care, for the sheets were warm, the pillow soft and her body well rested.

Another few minutes and there was silence. The bed dipped when Thorin settled back down beside her.

"Good morning, lass," Balin called softly, chuckling when Ferin grunted and lifted a few fingers in a small wave of acknowledgment. "I hope to see you at breakfast. You've slept the days away!"

Days?

Her fingers froze mid wriggle and her mind stuttered but Balin was gone before she could muster the energy to get up and question him. The bed shifted again and Ferin could feel Thorin's heat as he slid closer. He was like a furnace. Wanting to know what Balin was talking about, she made a noise of inquiry.

"We have slept for two days, it appears," he rumbled, his own voice sounding low and tired. Having had crossed the barrier of touch and personal space the previous night, he pressed against her back and rested his head on her shoulder, arm draping over her waist, legs pressing against hers.

Ferin made a noise of surprise, at both his words and his movement. Apparently sleeping beside someone for a few days had made him more demonstrative than she would have thought. This was good. Maybe he'd be friendlier and open now. It was also bad. Her libido was very much in favour of a warm male wrapped around her first thing in the morning.

He hummed in response and it vibrated against her back. She moaned, frowning at the pleasurable tingle along her spine. This man was going to kill her.

He paused and she wished she could understand what he was thinking. She didn't have to wait long for he tightened his hold and hummed again (_deliberately, _she thought crossly), before he began to tug at the fabric of his tunic on her, pulling down to see the Sight Mark on her shoulder. He traced it with light fingers, sending goosebumps across her skin.

"It has faded since I last saw it."

"Hmm?"

He chuckled. "I have thought you not a morning person but this is excessive. Noises and humming. Do I not deserve words for being your warmth in the night?"

She grunted for the sake of it and tried to tap him on the head for his cheek. He gripped her wrist easily and held it loosely by the side of her head. By this movement, the weight of him increased on her back, legs tangling more with hers, the rough hair scratching along her thighs. Her toes curled but she confined herself to that alone. He settled again when she did, continuing the exploration of her Mark.

"I often heard you in the dark," he began softly. "In the Elven King's dungeon, all I could hear was your distress."

Ferin finally opened her eyes and found her sight much better than she would have thought. The brighter room allowed her to pick out the colours and shapes of a desk and bedside cabinet as well as the green curtains still covering the window.

At her silence, he changed the subject but she hoped he knew it wasn't for want of not answering. She simply did not know what to say. She had thought little of him in her haze of visions and exhaustion. It had ever occurred to her that if she had indeed been vocal in her distress, he and others would have heard it.

"Balin has warned me about asking you, but I fear I must. I have been curious as to what you have seen since you received the Mark."

Gently she shifted to turn and he allowed her but did not move, hovering above on his elbows. His long hair draped around his face and tickled her forehead and cheeks and she could only meet his gaze for a moment. His dark eyes, curious but anxious roamed her features, searching for answers that she could not give him.

Looking away, she found her eyes following his hair, loose from his braids and streaked with grey. Such a life he must have had; banished from his home to wander the lands like her, searching for a place for his people, working in villages of Men who did not understand his worth or value.

Ferin cautiously reached up and lightly grasped several strands in her fingers. She began to trail her fingers through the ends as she spoke, hands moving without thought. "I cannot tell you," she said softly. "What I see is terrible and heart-breaking but if I tell you, I fear it will change and if it changes, I will not know what happens. And that brings a great fear and sorrow to me.

"I have seen things so many times and in many different ways and the choices I make must be sure. I have laid a small plan and I can only hope it is the right one for I could not bear to see the consequences if I am wrong."

When she finally stopped speaking, she blinked at the new braid she'd placed in his hair. It was where he normally had his own, but she had fallen back to the one she had used when she had been younger. Having never had much patience for her hair, Ferin, as a young child, had often just caught it back or placed in a loose braid. Sine, frustrated that her lovely hair was not utilised more beautifully, had finally sat her daughter down and had taught the only intricate braid Ferin would ever know by heart. From then on, whenever Ferin had been in a hurry or was distracted, her hands instinctively moved to do this one.

She glanced up to find him studying her work, having not noticed his keen eyes watching her every move.

"I'm sorry," she blurted suddenly. "I've probably offended you by this! I'm not knowledgeable in Dwarven fashion or meaning."

Ferin hastily moved her fingers to undo it but he grasped her hand. "No," he said quickly, releasing her hand to take hold of the end of the braid before it unravelled. He hesitated for a moment. "I confess, it has been a long time since someone else has done this for me and I have never seen this type before. I would like to keep it, if you would let me and I would ask you to teach it to me so I can wear it more often."

"Oh."

"Would you be willing to fetch my clasps by the basin? I would have you do the other as I watch. I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage." He smiled and raised an eyebrow at his lack of dress.

Ferin's eyes grew wide and reflexively glanced down to unnecessarily confirm it. Her eyes ran down his chest and abdomen before she blushed and looked away. He was pressed flush against her side so there was little else to see by his front, but the sheet was dangerously low on his hips and the hint of the skin of his thigh and butto –

His laugh was soft and she blushed under his attentive gaze. It flickered around her features and the expression of wonder at her response was truly a sight to see. Smiling through heated cheeks and tingling skin, Ferin shook her head. "One night sleeping with you and you've reduced me to a blushing maiden!"

He laughed again and Ferin quickly slipped from under him to retrieve his clasps. When she returned, he was sitting up at the side of the bed, sheet covering only his lap, hand still holding the end of the braid. Ferin stood in front of him and with a shake of her head and a smile, she took it from him to secure it with the lovely silver.

"Your hair has gotten longer since I first saw you."

She smiled. Her hair was a horrible mess. It was scraggly, stuck out often and had no order to it. Vala had tried to tame it with oils and wax on their journey but it only felt strange and washed out with the rain too easily. Ignoring it had seemed to be the best option.

"My hair has a life of its own, I'm afraid. There is nothing much to do about it but it is longer. Perhaps it will allow a small braid soon but I doubt it."

He was silent and the atmosphere became comfortable when she began the other braid. He watched her work for a few moments before he drifted away to the rest of her. Her skin tingled with the heat of his gaze; over her hair and features, past her scars and down the loose tunic where it began to slip over a shoulder and finally down to her legs and feet. There were few scars to be seen on her legs, thankfully.

"You're supposed to be learning how to do this," she admonished, focusing firmly on winding his fine hair, even though she could do it in her sleep.

He hummed, entirely unconcerned. "You may teach me another time."

She shook her head. "I may not with that arrogance."

"Then you will have to do it for me from now on."

Ferin raised her eyebrows dramatically. "You seem confident I will be willing."

"You have promised friendship to me, which means the willing service of braiding my hair."

She laughed and clasped the end of the braid. "So I have. I suppose I do Vala's so yours would not be a stretch."

He nodded and inspected his fine new braids. Ferin rolled her eyes and turned to leave the room to retrieve a fresh set of clothes from her room. The ones she had were only borrowed and far too large. She'd have to get new ones in the market and while she was at it, she'd have to get new weapons as well. She could only hope the fan fair had died down enough to go fairly unnoticed through the town.

When she returned to give him his shirt, freshly washed and dressed, she found him washing his face by the basin.

What stopped her halfway to him though was the sight of him in just his boots and breeches, hair tied back with only the new braids trailing down the side of his face. The main bulk of it remained at the centre of his back and shoulders and allowed a good view of his profile. His beard was short enough that she could admire the cut of his jaw and with his hair tied away, the roundness of his pale ears caught the light just so. She'd never known ears to be that attractive to her before. But her eyes moved on to the broad muscles of his back where they shifted and bunched with each pass of his hands over his face and neck...

_Oh, his neck_, she hummed. It was more slender than she would have thought it to be, hidden away under that mane of hair and the Adams apple distracted her for far longer than was strictly necessary.

It wasn't until the towel obscured her vision of him that Ferin realised he'd been watching her watching him. Blinking and feeling the churning of her stomach in embarrassment, she held out his shirt for him to take and instead of placing it to one side to retrieve another, he donned that one, giving her a challenging stare.

Confused, Ferin could only stare at him. What was that supposed to mean, exactly? Was he saying he didn't mind that she'd worn it? That she was clean? That she would protest?

It never occurred to her to wonder that he may have worn it _because _she had been sleeping in it. That he _wanted _to wear it for precisely that reason.

He looked down to fix his belt, and his voice was tinged with amusement. "Come, we'll miss breakfast."

He led the way to the door, brushing by her and holding it open. She thanked him and they walked side by side to the dining room to have their first decent meal in several days.

* * *

The market was busy but uplifting. She was delighted to find people so caught up in their merrymaking and daily chores, that they could only spare her a brief glance of curiosity before moving on. She'd not been the cause of the festivities after all.

She'd spent most of the morning wandering in search of decent clothes but found many stalls unaccommodating to her needs. Women here were taller and did not wear men's clothing so she was left with little option but to ask for them to be made especially for her size and purpose. They would not be ready for about two days ("And even that is pushing it!") so Ferin meandered around the stalls until she came to a forge.

There she found the Dwarf King, inspecting the wares with care and attention to detail. She watched him for a few moments as he hefted a few swords, testing their weight and balance. She knew the personal loss of Ocrist was difficult, for it was a fine sword. The loss of her own twin blades was hard to bear but there was little to do about it.

He spotted her soon enough, leaving without a purchase.

"You look disappointed."

"I am," she replied. "I have had to commission new clothing and find myself despondent at the loss of my swords."

He nodded. "I too have gotten used to Ocrist. It will be difficult to manage a new one I am unused to."

They were jostled slightly in the crowd's eagerness to get on with their day so they turned by mutual agreement to walk towards the outskirts. They were in no hurry to return to the house but were eager to escape the rush. Soon, they were taking paths unknown, enjoying the town and its spirit at their return, talking about nonsense things in between bouts of comfortable silence.

An hour or so later, they came upon a familiar set of women that Ferin had hoped to never see again.

"Oh, good day!" the blonde one said in pleasant surprise, Ferin never having bothered to remember their names.

"Good day," they returned stiffly.

"Oh don't be so unwelcoming," she laughed. "We meant no harm."

"Aye, of course not!" the younger one said, stepping forward eagerly towards Thorin. She smiled and twisted the end of her hair nervously. "We meant no harm to you or your kin, my King."

Before Thorin could answer, the blonde one stepped forward as well to his side, placing a bold hand on his shoulder. "How are you faring this day?"

"We fare well," he answered, frowning at her. Ferin was curious that he kept saying 'we'.

"Would you like us to show you around?"

"Oh, yes! We'd love to accompany you."

"I am afraid we desire no company – "

"Oh but our company is grand," the younger one simpered, biting her lip. Thorin watched her warily.

"Yes," the blonde one said, dropping her voice in what Ferin thought was supposed to be seductive. "We don't mind _sharing_ our _company_."

Ferin frowned and folded her arms. Looking the women up and down carefully she noted they were not dressed very demurely like many women of the town and did not look as fair as when she had first glanced them several days before. How had she not noticed their obvious crassness the other night? She rather suspected if Thorin said 'Bow down and kiss my feet,' they would have immediately without shame.

They continued simpering and petting and Thorin looked very uncomfortable, shooting her desperate glances.

It occurred to her suddenly that they were both quite useless at this life business. Ferin didn't cope well with other people, often pushing forward a gruff, unwelcoming persona to keep them at bay because of how they would treat her. She craved attention but had to push it away whereas Thorin's similar attitude seemed to have stemmed from being forced from his home and losing his confidence as a worthy person. He deserved more. They both craved contact and connection but Ferin received the wrong kind and Thorin received very little at all.

Well, she could fix that easily enough. If she wasn't going to survive this world, she may as well give all that she had promised him.

His obvious glances were getting a bit more frequent now as the women kept petting him and trying to entice him into their favour. Ferin finally took pity on him.

When she stepped forward, she quickly reached inside of herself and imagined knocking down part of the wall she'd erected around her heart. It had been steadily falling away but this attempt at letting herself go a little more was deliberate. With a smile, she slid easily to his side where he instinctively wrapped his arm around her waist. She returned it and changed her smile to something more chagrined. "I apologise, ladies but he is taken and we'd rather go back to our lovely walk, if I am not too rude."

Their faces fell briefly, an undercurrent of jealousy creeping into their eyes before they pouted and respectfully backed away to let them go. Ferin turned to continue and Thorin quickly grasped her hand in his.

"You are missing out!" the blonde one couldn't help but say before they left. "We would have been very _grateful_ for your return."

Ferin grinned wickedly at them. "He could never be grateful to you, I'm afraid for he has everything already. Trust me; he is missing _nothing _that you could think to give."

With that she tugged a surprised Thorin away, leaving the shocked women gaping and blushing. They strolled away at a leisurely pace, weaving around people and taking smaller walkways to avoid the rush. It wasn't until they were more secluded down a walkway that she realised she was still holding his hand. She kept it there since he seemed equally as reluctant to let it go.

"What exactly have I not been missing out on?"

Ferin laughed and tightened her hold. "I don't know what you're talking about, _my King._"

He hummed wryly. A few moments later they stopped.

"Hmm."

"Hmm?"

Ferin looked around, seeing nothing familiar.

"Any idea where we are?"

"I do not. I was following you."

"Me?" she asked incredulously. "I don't know where we're going. I assumed you did."

"You were the one who dragged me away."

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly at his exaggeration. "Oh for Eru's sake. I was expecting you to tell me if we were venturing the wrong way."

He raised a brow, looking around before looking at her. He had an odd look about him when he said, "I'm not familiar with this town."

Ferin bit her lip to stop a smile. "You have that same look on your face you did when you said you'd gotten lost in the Shire."

He frowned.

"Twice."

It was a full on glare now but it didn't stop her grin. "I think we have something else in common. I'm useless in towns and cities as well. Give me a forest any day..."

"Or a mountain."

Ferin rubbed her thumb absently along the back of his hand while she glanced about. "So what now?"

He tightened his hold and began to walk in the same direction they had started in. "We walk. It can't be that big. Or complicated."

And so Ferin followed Thorin.

Two hours later they managed to make it back to the house, tired but in fairly good spirits for they had managed to dodge many people by the show of holding hands. Turns out the villagers were very reluctant to bother the King and his... whatever she was.

When supper was had and everyone was relaxed and telling stories by the fire, Ferin chose to sit on the carpet, resting against Thorin's leg while he sat on a chair. The fire was lovely and the company more so; spirits were high and laughter was abundant and Ferin wilted happily at the peacefulness of it all.

Vala was across from her by Dwalin and Bilbo, the burly woman resting against the large Dwarf's side. His thick arm was wrapped around her shoulder and his hand played with her hair while he talked to his brother.

Vala caught her looking and raised her eyebrows with a grin and a deliberate hand on Dwalin's thick thigh. Ferin returned it and rolled her eyes. She felt guilty for not attending to her friend these last few weeks but she was an adult and seemed to be coping well.

Thorin watched his nephews mess about before gazing around his company, his hand coming up absently to brush over her hair. It happened a few more times and when she didn't protest he seemed to have the courage to play with it.

Ferin watched Vala's expression when Thorin did this. Eyebrows raised and a heavy nudge to her lover and suddenly it was Balin and Dwalin watching with surprise as well. Ferin pursed her lips and scowled, trying to communicate that if they disturbed him, she'd have a thing or two to mangle. Dwalin looked away, focusing on Bofur's story, knowing to leave his friend alone but Balin and Vala watched. Vala kept wiggling her eyebrows and flashing a grin, making crude hand gestures.

Ferin just about understood.

'Did you, you know...?'

Ferin frowned and minutely shook her head no.

'Why?'

Ferin closed her eyes gently and made a show of scratching her temple.

The next gesture was harder to interpret but Ferin understood that Vala meant, 'Visions?'

'Yes.'

Her friend frowned. 'Bad?' she mouthed.

Ferin couldn't explain through bad signage and mouthing so she waved her hand and mouthed, 'Later.'

Which brought to mind her plan. She'd need others to help her if it was to work and the only people that could help was Vala and possibly Balin.

Trying not to think of it yet, Ferin relaxed into Thorin's leg and she was rewarded with a firm stroke of thick fingers through her hair. She'd think of it later. For now, she'd enjoy the company and good spirits.

* * *

Later came far sooner than she would have liked. The night moved on and everyone parted to go to bed. Ferin told Thorin she wanted to catch up with her friend before joining him and he nodded. She caught him pausing to talk with Bifur however, the gruff Dwarf gesturing what looked like nonsense but Thorin seemed to understand. He took whatever it was from the signing Dwarf and retreated without a backwards glance.

Ferin turned back to find Vala still in the same spot by the fire, Bilbo lost to the flames as well beside her. She had not originally intended for the Hobbit to be here but what was the harm now? He would have regrets later and it would be hard convincing him about what was to happen so the earlier the better. He'd also been very withdrawn since arriving in the town. He'd confessed to her earlier that he'd seen Erebor before they'd embarked their wooden barrels and it had brought home the fact that they were nearing the end.

Balin, having been asked subtly by Ferin to remain behind from the others, moved from the shadows now and took a seat on a cushioned ottoman.

"You wished to discuss something with us, lass?" he said gently, mindful to keep his voice low.

Ferin sighed and sat in the small chair Thorin had claimed earlier. "Yes."

"Is it about the visions?" Vala asked, concern written on her face.

Ferin nodded. "I have to tell you something. You will not like it."

Balin sat back for a moment, realisation crossing his wise features. "You mean to tell us the future. What will come to pass."

"Yes." He seemed to wrestle within himself. "I will not tell you if you do not wish it, Balin but it is important to all of us."

A few minutes pass and finally he nods, just once.

"I will say the same for both of you as well," she said to Bilbo and Vala.

"I'm with you," Vala said without hesitation.

Bilbo was slower, unsure but even he too, eventually nodded.

And so Ferin told them of the death of Thorin, Fili and Kili. She told them of the gold sickness and the Dragon and Bard and the Elves; everything she had seen in snippets and full images. She told them of the Arkenstone and what would happen at the battle that followed.

Hours passed and they listened, expressions of joy at the thought of the Smaug defeated, shock and pain at Thorin's actions and thoughts and horror and sorrow at the death of the Durin line.

It was several minutes before anyone said anything, Ferin's voice hoarse from telling all while keeping her voice low. The others couldn't know of this.

"You've... you've seen this?" Vala whispered, eyes wet and voice just as hoarse.

"Too many times to count." Ferin rubbed her eyes and sat back on the chair. The fire was dying, the embers crackling feebly in a last attempt to stay alight.

"_Gods_... Why didn't you _tell_ me? You've been dealing with this since Beorn's?"

"I could not. I didn't know what they meant. Not until they returned in Thranduil's dungeons."

"I did that?" Bilbo asked, hands buried in his curly hair while he gazed at the carpet.

"No," Ferin reassured. "It is a possible path you choose. You can change it."

He didn't look convinced. Balin, who'd been silent and withdrawn gasped, looking up to the ceiling, hands white from tension. "We will lose them."

Ferin had never quite heard a tone like that. She thought he sounded broken. _Beyond_ broken. And she had brought it upon him.

"No," she said firmly, angry at herself for being so selfish. She should not have told them. "We will not."

"But, you said – "

"It is but one path, Vala. Only one. I have seen many and I have a plan to set one path ahead of the others."

"_How?_" Balin asked desperately, clenching his fists on his knees. His eyes glistened in the low light and Ferin frowned in determination.

"I have seen them so many times that I believe I understand what they've been trying to tell me."

And so she began again. Every detail of the most prominent path was laid out and Ferin had a plan to counter each step to reach the goal of saving the line of Durin. Each enemy was placed, each strike of the sword and thrust of a spear was explained. Each being had a place and a role and she would treat it like a dance. Counter each strike, place a person to counter another and so on.

"They will survive if we each take a part at a certain time in a certain place during the battle," she finished.

They mulled it over for several moments until Balin, wise and kind old Balin brought up the one thing she hoped he wouldn't.

"And the cost for such a plan?"

Ferin sighed but kept his steady gaze. She didn't have to say anything for them to understand.

"You'll die?" Vala said, voice strained at keeping the volume of it low. She shook her head and gritted her teeth. "That is not right!"

"There must be another way," Bilbo said softly, arms pulling his knees in tight to his body.

Ferin shook her head. "I've tried everything but I either live for a short time without them or I will die in their place. There is no way around it from what I can see."

"What do you mean without them?"

Ferin looked away. The embers had given up and merely glowed in the hearth, waiting to die out themselves. _Such morbid thoughts_, she thought.

"That Witch," Balin said suddenly. "That Witch said you'd fade with the sorrow of losing someone. She was talking of Thorin?"

Ferin shrugged. "I do not know. Perhaps. If my Fate is not tied to him already, it will be in the near future. I will fade with him and his kin should they pass from this world. And if they live, I will die in their place."

There was so much to absorb, that Ferin had to leave them to their thoughts. It was too much in one night but it was done. They would aid her and they would try their best to save Thorin and the young Princes.

Before she left, Ferin went to Bilbo and knelt by his side. "I am sorry. Truly. I never meant to burden you with this but we all play a role in this life and I have been given the opportunity to change it. Perhaps I will stall your sorrow by asking you to aid me."

Bilbo nodded absently, thoughts clouding his mind. Ferin reached out to grasp his shoulder. "I will ask something of you in the near future and I am hopeful that you will give me the right answer. I think you will understand in time."

Bilbo frowned but nodded again.

"Goodnight, my friend."

"Goodnight."

Ferin walked down the dark hall to Thorin's room, bidding Vala and Balin a goodnight when they passed her to return to theirs.

Once inside, she found a candle nearly burned to the base on Thorin's bedside cabinet. Smiling softly, she changed into the shirt he'd left out for her, knowing she would probably forget for a second time, which she had. The floor allowed her to creep silently across on bare feet to snuff out the light before she moved around the bed to climb in. He was turned away from her, covers resting on his waist and leaving his broad back bare.

Feeling suddenly exhausted by the draining talk with the others, Ferin turned around and curled up on her side against the colder air of the room. She could only hope her dreams were pleasant.

After a few minutes of dozing, she was just about to fall over the precipice of sleep when Thorin turned, reached out with a hand and found her. Without hesitation he slid across the bed and curled around her, head buried in her neck and legs tucked under hers. It wasn't long before the heat of him and his deep, even breathing lulled her to sleep.

And it was dreamless.


	15. No Turning Back Now

**A/N: Hello! Spent all day writing this and it took a while. Hope it doesn't seem to rushed or that the grammar seems off and stilted! I try my best to fix it but sometimes I just don't see it. We're going to cover a fair bit here and I took some creative liberties (which I'm sure you'll notice anyway) about Ferin's Mother's kin. She was human yes, but since I couldn't really find the equivalent of an Irish people, I kind of made one up (it's not in depth, don't worry). So there ya go.**

**Any and all mistakes are mine so I apologise for inconsistencies and such.**

**Thank you to all my followers and reviewers as always:**

**UKReader: Thank you my dear and I will not hold it against you, don't worry. I have no excuse myself for not reviewing wonderful stories other than laziness so I cannot fault others for not reviewing. I hold no grudges for that.**

**NavyReservist: Thank you very much, and I hope you continue to love this!**

**Loki'sdreamer: I'm guessing that one of your favourites is now Ferin...? If so, thank you! I'm glad I've created a character that people can love and feel a loss for.**

**FantasyDreamer4Life: I hope you continue to love the story, thank you for reviewing!**

** 2: Your name seemed to have disappeared from my last chapter for some reason! I'll have to fix that right away and I hope this update is what you were hoping for.**

**Luna153: Thank you and you'll find out the details of her plan soon I believe. I didn't want to give too much away. The suspense is hard but can be worth it!**

**Ibmeep: Thank you. My week has been very hectic but I think I'm back on track at the moment and I'm delighted that my story gave you a pick-me-up. I love stories like that and it's a great compliment to hear that mine is doing it for someone else.**

**BattiBeff: Good Lord, your reviews always makes me want to spill the secrets! You're excitement makes me excited to write it!**

**LilithLieLoveHeart: You did not have long to wait for this one, my dear so enjoy!**

**On with the trepidation!**

**Blue xx**

* * *

Ferin jerked awake at a sudden rush of noise from the doorway of the room. She sat up reflexively, hands fisted to fight off the attac –

Vala strode in laughing, and clapped her hard on the back when she reached the bedside. A startled Dori trailed after her holding a tray laden with breakfast and a single bright orange flower that threatened to fall off the edge.

"We've brought you breakfast and tea and other fine treasures! No need to be so defensive!" Vala boomed with a grin, and Ferin felt a small pang relief at her friend's morning countenance. She had missed it greatly, for all the annoyance that it was.

Relaxing, Ferin blinked away the remnants of sleep and ran a hand through her mussed hair. She was alone in the bed and Thorin was nowhere to be seen but the others barging their way in like they had at Bilbo's distracted her. What in all of Arda were they doing?

"We've been remiss in our promised gifts to you, my Lady," Bofur started congenially, bowing with a mischievous grin. "We thought that we'd amend that particular grievance before we got on with our journey."

Ferin frowned in bemusement. What was he talking about?

Dori cleared his throat and offered the tray, setting it on Ferin's lap when she scooted back to the headboard. It was filled with eggs and bacon and bread and juice and toast with jam and mushrooms with baked beans. In one corner, a steaming cup of black tea tried to protect the slightly wilting flower by the edge. "I did promise you one of my best teas," Dori said firmly, fussily arranging the tray until he was happy.

"I made you new gloves and a scarf," Ori said, nervously thumbing the small folded pieces of knitwear in his hands. He carefully laid them on the end of the bed.

Bombur stepped forward and gestured to the breakfast. "The finest I could manage without my own supplies."

"I'll provide some music with the help of the boys and a song and any story you'd like," Bofur said, looking somewhat rueful that that was all he could offer. Ferin smiled at him and nodded in thanks.

"I couldn't ask for more from you Bofur."

Fili and Kili stepped forward together, hiding something behind their backs. "We'd like to offer you the finest knives and scabbards in all of Erebor – "

"And we will when we get it back!" Kili said quickly.

" – but for now, we can only offer you these."

They both produced two thin bracelets of dark leather with embroidered stitching. They stepped forward and place both around her right wrist, tying them neatly. They overlapped a bit and when she moved the slid this way and that but they were comfortable and soft. The golden colour of the thread swirled and followed the same pattern bar one small, separate piece all on its own.

"This is my name," Fili said quietly, pointing to the lone pattern. "My _real_ name, in Khuzdûl."

"And that's mine," Kili said just as quietly. "We spent three days making them."

"We rarely share our true names but we thought it important. And this is Khuzdûl as well," Fili pointed out, trying to pass off the significance of what he and his brother had done. He tracing the main pattern on the bracelet and Kili moved closer, daring to sit by her on the edge of the bed.

He pressed against her with his shoulder. "It means family."

Ferin's breath caught in her throat and her eyes burned. Releasing it shakily, she pressed back against the young Dwarf and gripped Fili's arm firmly. "Thank you. That means more to me than you can imagine."

They smiled and Vala clapped her hands in the subdued atmosphere. "It's suddenly gone very soft in here! Let's get our breakfast and have a party!"

All the Dwarves heartily agreed to that plan and before long they had returned to crowd the room with piles of food and instruments.

After Oin had offered his services to her eye (pronouncing it as well as he had expected) Nori joined her and spoke about the finer art of pick pocketing, demonstrating his light fingers on an irritated Gloin several times to Ferin's amusement. Bofur sang with whoever was willing and played with those who had found instruments and Kili and Fili began to dance with a slightly less sombre Bilbo. The Hobbit had been quiet throughout most of the morning, avoiding the brothers were possible due to his upset, but by the encouragement of the others and the two young lads he had tried his best to relax. It seemed to be working.

Balin came and sat by her on the bed not long after breakfast, everyone having told Ferin to stay put and rest during their small festivities. Ferin watched him, wary of the conversation the night previous but she was instantly reassured by the older Dwarf's wink. "I was upset last night lass, but I've done a lot of thinking. We'll figure it out and I'm very glad you told me."

Ferin nodded, looking around the room to find that Dwalin was missing as well. How had she not noticed _that_? He was large and was lately attached to Vala's hip like her friend was to him.

Balin smiled. "My brother and Thorin are out organising supplies for us. They'll be back later."

She didn't get to respond as Bifur approached them and suddenly thrust something towards her. It was a wooden carving that looked very familiar.

Ferin grinned. He'd made a model of her; a finely polished, scarred dog stretched out in full gallop, ears back with a fierce countenance. She took it from him reverently and he grunted something in Khuzdul before signing after it.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"He says you're welcome and that he enjoyed creating it," Balin translated.

Bifur left as suddenly as he'd come, striding over to the leftovers of breakfast to hunt for some vegetables.

Ferin stroked and admired the carving for several minutes before Balin spoke. "How are you faring?"

She looked up. "I fare well."

He sighed, adjusting himself on the chair Gloin had brought in. Glancing over to the others, he leaned to one side to massage his temple. The merrymaking was boisterous and they would not hear. "I could not help but think on what you've been going through.

"To have such a burden... How many times have you seen the visions?"

She sat back with a tired sigh and absently rubbed the smooth finish on her carving. "Too many times."

"Is there no way to save – "

"I have memorised the path, Balin, do not worry yourself. I plan on ensuring that everyone is safe."

He smiled sadly. "You misunderstand me, Ferin. I wish to know if we cannot save you as well."

Oh.

An ache bloomed in her chest and breakfast soured in her stomach. "No."

"Why?"

"Because that is the way of it."

"Is there no path were you survive?"

Ferin looked up to see Vala had been watching them from across the room, the expression on her friend's face worried at the possible conversation they were having. "None that I have seen."

He probably would have said more but Fili and Kili had come their way, pushing and shoving to get to them first.

"For Mahal's sake, Kili! I'm only going to take the tray!"

"But I can do it!"

"Fine!"

Kili eagerly moved to take the tray but stood back too quickly and bumped into his brother. The tray tipped and the (thankfully empty) teacup pitched forward, knocking the flower and something else onto the bed clothes covering Ferin's lap.

"Sorry!" he said, checking to make sure no damage had been done before taking the tray away, his brother rolling his eyes and following.

The flower, wilted from being pressed against the heat of the cup, was very beautiful. Nearing this time of the year, she would have thought it difficult to get something so new and fresh but it smelled wonderful; of outdoors and earth and the mossy scent of the forest by the banks.

"I think you've gotten something else," Balin murmured pointedly, raising an eyebrow at the small trinkets in her lap. They were small beads the width of her thumbnail, wooden and carved with much skill and patience. "For your hair, I would imagine. Long enough now I think for a small braid and decoration."

Vala strode over at the commotion. "Aye, it would be shameful to leave your hair in that state!"

Ferin sent a wry look to her friend before admiring the beads once more. They were a pale tan colour and had something carved around the body that looked similar to the writing on her bracelets. "There is something here written in Khuzdûl, I think."

Vala easily climbed up on the bed and settled beside her, roughly assessing where to put the adornments while Balin squinted at the beads. His eyebrows rose a bit before he passed them back, schooling his features to curious innocence.

"I'm afraid my eyes don't see things as they used to," he said ruefully. "But you mind now about those. Things like that are gifted differently by our Race and each individual therein. The intent is often only known to the person gifting or the gifted. I would suspect they were hidden like that for good reason."

Ferin stared at him for a moment, unsure what to say.

Vala began tugging at her hair on the right side of her head, picking and choosing several pieces before discarding them until she found the right lengths to braid.

Ferin, used to her friend's forwardness concerning her hair (having enjoyed letting her do it when it had been longer), continued to turn the beads this way and that. The writing was beautiful and outside of Bifur's gruff chatter, Ferin would imagine hearing the words of Khuzdûl fluently would be lovely.

"Who left them, I wonder?"

Vala snorted, pulling the hair tight, fingers nimble and quick. "I wouldn't imagine it's one of these lot," she said good-naturedly. "Dwalin's taken by yours truly. Gloin has a wife. Oin is... well, he's Oin. Bofur seems to have eyes for Bilbo and I think our Hobbit has the same idea, and the young Princes think of you as family."

"I doubt it's young Ori either," Balin continued, warming to it. "Nor do I suspect Nori or Dori. Bombur has a family of his own and I, myself – though I would have been honoured when I was younger, my dear – have not gifted you with these fine trinkets."

"Looks like Bifur's work though but I wouldn't imagine him doing them for you unless..."

Ferin winced when Vala tugged a particularly stubborn hair. "Unless, what?"

"Well, there's only one left really. Maybe he asked Bifur to make them for you?"

Balin hummed and Ferin stared at the beads intently. Would Thorin have given these to her? And what did that mean if he did?

The door opened and in walked the topic of conversation with his friend and guard, Dwalin. They were red faced from the cooler air and looked very satisfied with their day's dealings.

"Looks like finding the supplies have proved promising," Balin said, waving them over.

Ferin felt suddenly very self-conscious at Thorin's blatant stare when he stopped by the bed. Smiling awkwardly at him in greeting, she tried to imagine what she looked like right at this moment. She was surrounded by Dwarves in a bedroom, a woman braiding her hair and still dressed in his shirt. She absently rolled the beads in her fingers and he looked away to greet Balin giving her time to sag in the relief of him not saying anything.

"Hello love," Dwalin greeted fondly, towering over them on the bed. Ferin could see the warmth and heat in his gaze and could only think that Vala must have the same look for her friend tugged harder than necessary when she finished.

"Vala," Ferin said sharply, resisting the urge to rub her abused scalp.

Vala cleared her throat. "Sorry." The larger woman quickly took the beads and threaded them before suddenly producing a thin strip of leather to tie the end.

Dwalin looked to Ferin and nodded in approval, his rough hand grasping her chin and moving her head to the side. He grunted. "That's a good spot to use now that it's not hidden under that mess."

Ferin scowled. So her hair was a state, no need to point it out all the time.

Wait. "What do you mean by a good spot to use?"

He let go over her chin and tapped the scar on her temple and cheek. "Was thinking of where to put your ink. That's a good spot and it would hide a lot of that scar."

Oh. She'd forgotten about that.

He seemed to realise and grinned. "Oh aye, I haven't forgotten. When we get Erebor back, it's one of the first things I'll do. I'll keep thinking of the right design, don't you worry."

_Believe me, I wasn't_, she thought.

Vala left with him a few minutes later to check out their finds from the market and Ferin ran her hand over the braid. It was tight and incorporated nearly the entire right side of her head before turning down towards the back of her ear where the two beads nestled together one on top of the other.

A small vulnerable feeling made her reconsider the placement. She'd not had her hair away from her face since she'd gotten that scar and she'd been turned into a dog not long after cutting it into the mess it had been, so having a sudden lack of hair to hide behind made her feel strange.

The bed dipped and she looked up to find Thorin sitting beside her. He reached out and ran his fingers across the new braid before he encountered the beads at the end. He looked satisfied at finding them there.

"So you accept my gift?" he rumbled.

Ferin smiled and tugged at the end bead, tracing the writing there. "I do. They are lovely, thank you."

He nodded. "Good. This suits you."

"If you mention my hair being a mess, I'll hit you," she laughed but he looked bemused. "Never mind."

He nodded after a moment and stood. "Come see what we have found."

"Alright."

He and Balin moved everyone out of the room so she could dress and she quickly donned her worn breeches, boots (thankfully still intact, thank the Elvish craftsmen) and an overlarge man's shirt with her trusty, almost tattered belt. The poor leather was worn down, rough in some places and soft in others but it had served her well through battles and adventures; someone using it to yank her backwards out of the path of a Warg or having it catch on a tree branch during a time she had nearly gone over a cliff.

Definitely lucky. Washing her face and brushing her teeth, Ferin caught a glimpse of the braid in the small mirror by the basin. _Not bad work, Vala,_ she thought. It looked foreign and exotic; a style a Dwarvish Noble or Elf would wear perhaps. _It also makes me look more feminine. Can't win them all I suppose, _she smirked wryly.

Leaving the room, she followed the noise of happy surprise and rough talk. Kili and Fili were helping Ori get acquainted with a large hammer Dwalin had gifted him with while the others were off to their own side of the room admiring their own weaponry.

Thorin waved her over and presented her with something long wrapped in cloth. It was heavy and when she unravelled it, two swords gleamed up at her. They were a sturdy make, the metal shining darkly.

"I could not find a twin set but these are close to each other in weight and balance. I hope they will serve you well."

Ferin gently grasped the swords and hefted them in her hands. They were heavier than her Elvish ones but they were very similar to each other. Twirling them this way and that she found that in time, they would probably be easier to use provided she used the same on in each hand every time. She looked to see him with his own new blade; though nowhere near the fine blade of Ocrist, it was large and suited him well.

"Dragged me all over the market to find two that matched," Dwalin said in passing, clapping Thorin on the back. "Spent hours trying so many blades the Blacksmith nearly throttled him, and would have if I hadn't forced him to pick."

Thorin looked very unimpressed by his friend's sudden words. He'd obviously not intended on telling her that.

Her eyebrows rose and she floundered for a moment. "I... I don't really know what to say. Thank you, obviously but... you didn't have to go through so much trouble for me."

"Think nothing of it," he said gruffly, waving her away. "You will need blades you are familiar with if you are to protect yourself." He sat by the low fire and bent to the task of sharpening his sword with a whetstone, ending the conversation. Ferin struggled for a moment at what to do. He'd given her a fragile friendship, trinkets for her hair and nowa new set of blades. She could have used whatever sword he'd deigned to get her but he'd gone out of his way to find her preference.

Feeling suddenly like a fool for standing and staring at him, Ferin quickly moved away to find scabbards to fit them. It didn't take long and soon the familiar weight of the weapons strapped to her back brought a calm relief.

Vala chuckled beside her. "Happy are we?"

Ferin grinned, feeling the braid stretch at her skin. It was almost pleasant. "Very much so." She quickly glanced over to the quiet King before turning back to her friend, keeping her voice low. "Although I do not know how to repay him."

Vala looked thoughtful for a moment before her gaze alighted on her beads. She cleared her throat and leaned forward conspiratorially. "I have it on good authority," she began and Ferin unconsciously leaned towards her friend, "That Thorin told Bifur who in turn told Bofur from my asking – "

"_Vala_," Ferin snorted, trying not to laugh. She hadn't heard her friend talk like a young girl gossiping since she'd first met her. "Don't start going back to who told who what before it came to you! Just say it."

"I know what your beads say!" she blurted in an excited whisper, grinning and playing with her own new braid that Dwalin had given her the other day. A shiny new clasp held it together and reflected in the afternoon sunlight through the window.

"Oh?"

"Yes. Well, one of them at least."

Ferin rolled her eyes at the dramatic pause. "What do they say then?"

"Well, this one," she reached over and fingered the one on the bottom, "means friendship or companionship, depending on the translation."

"And the other?"

"Well..."

Ferin slapped her on the arm. "Come on."

"Well, I'm not sure."

"That's helpful."

Vala chuckled. "Sorry. I tried to wheedle it out of Dwalin a few minutes ago but he was avid in not telling me."

"Well, that doesn't help me repay him. I don't have anything of value to give in return."

"Maybe make something? He's made you those, so make him something for his hair as well. Braids and decoration obviously mean something in their culture so it is worth a try. And he seems to have very little in regards to that."

Ferin hummed. It wasn't a bad idea. "Alright."

And so Ferin approached Bifur later that evening after supper to ask for his help. She tried to explain what she wanted and after a few misunderstandings and fumbling attempts at expressing herself, Bifur managed to understand her request for help in creating a clasp for Thorin.

A day passed and Ferin received her new clothing, feeling more like herself in a fitted tunic and breeches with a dark purple coat and boots. She had added a dagger to her weapons supply and was more than ready to move on. The others grew restless soon enough as well and plans were made to leave the next day.

The trip up the river was uneventful and Ferin often found herself separated from Thorin which suited her well, for she wanted to keep her whittling and carving a secret. She'd made several mistakes already but this latest attempt was proving fruitful.

When the Men left them after the third day to return to the town, spirits had fallen quite quickly. The sight of Erebor was not as welcoming as they had thought and they spent a cold and miserable night near the bank where the great Mountain loomed over the land. The thoughts of what awaited them curled unpleasantly in their stomachs. They had still not thought of how to take care of Smaug and Ferin could not help; she had seen the Dragon's demise at the hands of Bard in her visions but she had seen nothing in between. This part of the journey was not familiar.

They moved over the land with ease by pony, the poor creatures taking what weight they could on the last leg of their adventure. It wasn't long before the protection of the trees grew faint, the land opening wide to the scorched remains of the Dragons wrath. Ferin often scouted ahead, dismounting so as to not tax her pony and jogging ahead to scan the horizon and earth for possible traps or dangers, tracking back often to report nothing amiss. Fili and Kili joined her several times but little was said; these lands were broken by the Desolation of Smaug and were not the rolling hills of the Shire were good chatter could lift them beyond despair.

The atmosphere that hovered this close to the mountain was tense and quiet. No bird song woke them in the morn, nor were there sounds of people or creatures to keep them company on the wind. Just silence.

During the nights, Ferin took her turn on watch, often with Bifur and it was here she continued her lessons. The gruff Dwarf had helped her choose the latest piece of wood and had begun to show her the intricacies of carving she'd been having trouble with. He taught her how to do a basic shape and he helped her fashion the hollow inside with a thin knife before directing her in designing it. The work was slow; Bifur insisted on teaching her the trade in general rather than just this one small task but it was enjoyable and distracting. To ease some of the communication issues, she asked Bifur to teach her a few words in Khuzdûl as well as a few signs in Iglishmek.

Khuzdûl was gruff coming from Bifur but when the others heard her practicing, they eagerly tried to help and Ferin was awed by the language and the ease with which they spoke it. There was a beautiful simplicity and clarity to it that she often wondered why she had never heard it before. She soaked it in and within a day or so she could speak a very stilted, basic conversation with Bifur. He'd seemed pleased and Ferin vowed to learn what she could in the time she had left.

When she wasn't on watch or carving her gift and learning their language, she spent it sleeping by Thorin. She sought him out often when she wasn't trying to keep her secrets and he seemed to do the same. If she laid her bed first, he would join her and vice versa. When they walked or rode next to each other, they touched often; a brush across the arm, hand on the shoulder or on the small of her back. At night Ferin often sat by him just for the contact and comfort. He was something solid and warm out here and was willing to reciprocate and he chased away the cold dread of her thoughts as they drew closer to the end.

When they reached the skirts of the Mountain, they made camp on the western side of the southern spur. Their aim was to find the hidden door but Thorin wished to check the Front Gate first so a scouting party was gathered and sent, consisting of Balin, Fili, Kili and Bilbo. Ferin stayed behind, unwilling to see what was left of Dale; she's been there upon its destruction and her arm burned in the memory of it, she would not do so again if it could be helped.

So she had continued working on her gift, which had turned into two once she'd gotten the hang of it. The light coloured, clasps she'd fashioned were now designed (_very carefully and patiently, _she thought proudly) with her mother's heritage in mind. Swirling loops and tiny leaves curled around the wood and on one of them she'd carved the word friendship while on the other, she'd carved her name; both words in her mother's tongue of Celvannae. Ferin had thought on the memories of her mother fondly while she'd worked and had had the idea that it was no harm to use the language on the gifts. If Thorin's kind used theirs for different meanings then she could use hers as well. Besides, the language was so old and forgotten now that she suspected no one could read it bar those who had been around her mother's family or kin.

Satisfied that the designs were complete, Ferin took to polishing them by the firelight while they waited for the scouts return. Thorin kept steeling glances at her but she kept her secret with a smile. They were not ready yet.

* * *

The next few days were disheartening. They had moved camp and had tried many times to find a path upwards to find the secret door but every evening they returned without news. Bilbo seemed to be the only one to be able to muster some enthusiasm for the job and was often seen carrying around and reading Thorin's map.

And suddenly one night, Bilbo arrived back with the young Princes and said that they had found the door. Plans were made and excitement rolled through all of them bar Ferin. Her gut clenched unpleasantly and her mind's eye remembered visions of a great cavernous room full of gold and the battle that followed later. There was no going back now.

They moved upwards the next morning, ropes tied tightly around their waist and it wasn't long before they found the safety of the grassy notch. Bofur and Bombur stayed behind and Ferin fretted for them, Bombur especially, for no one should be left behind in the open but he was as stubborn as any Dwarf could be.

Some ventured off to explore the edges but found nothing worthwhile, while others tried to force open the door. Ferin did none of these things. She sat next to Bilbo and polished and thought and waited.

"Not going to help us?" Gloin asked gruffly after damaging the chisel he'd brought from Lake-town.

"No Master, Gloin, I am not," she said simply. "That door has been shut firmly by magic and no amount of brute force or clever words will open it."

Having no response to that, they began to wander aimlessly and glumly about, bored and annoyed and tired. The excitement had waned and now all there was to do was to wait. Bilbo glared at a rock or the snails and Ferin polished and thought and planned. Vala chatted and tried to keep good spirits but failed often.

After another day, the atmosphere fared no better. Tempers were short and desperation clung to them like a mist. Still nothing happened and Durins day would approach on the morrow. Thorin snapped at Bilbo once but Ferin and Vala came to his defence quickly and the mood soured even further.

Her polishing was complete by the next day and Ferin watched Bilbo carefully. He looked miserable but unwilling to budge from his place, staring moodily at the stone he'd been glaring at from the beginning. When he did finally move from his perch, she watched him from her position against the wall. A snail lazily made its way past her head on his march downwards to his meal in the grass but Ferin could only watch Bilbo. He gazed out at the sinking sun and the sliver of moon high above and –

_Crack!_

_Crack! Crack!_

She turned at the same time as Bilbo to witness a large Thrush knocking a snail against the stone where the door was hidden. Bilbo seemed to know what it meant for he suddenly began shouting for the others and they all rushed over to the door as he explained. And so they waited and waited, their hopes falling with every minute until _there, right there_, a finger of light shone upon the rock and with a great crack, a chunk of rock dropped out from the wall about three feet from the ground. There, where the piece had been was a small hole.

"The key! Quickly!" Bilbo cried and Thorin stepped forward to place the key in it and with a turn and heavy snap, it unlocked. The sunlight disappeared, the cool moonlight taking its place and they heaved the stone door open. It swung in without a sound, the darkness within so black it was like looking into a yawning mouth and it went down and down and down where they could not see.

For a long moment, no one moved. Now that it was open, all were reluctant to enter into the depths. Finally, Thorin decided to make use of their burglar for the job he'd originally come to accomplish. There was a fuss and a lot of exasperation when Thorin tried to make it seem noble and courageous but all Bilbo wanted to do was get it over with so he ventured inside with Balin.

Their torch disappeared quickly and Ferin hovered by the door, very conscious of the alarming amount of heat she could feel from the passage. The others moved away from the eerie darkness and heat to sit in the grass but Ferin rigidly kept watch, ears open to any sounds since her eyes were of no use.

It felt like hours had passed by the time a delighted Balin came out carrying their Hobbit. The golden cup he'd brought out was eagerly passed around several times, Ferin politely refusing it when it came to her; her focus was on the tunnel and the skies around them. She had seen their survival but that did not mean that the path could not change or that they would escape without injury.

Something nudged her arm and took her attention away from the doorway. Nori was holding out the cup for her to take again.

"No thank you, Nori. Gold does not interest me, I'm afraid." And it was true. It was beautiful in its own right but she had neither desire for it nor any other precious metal in the world. To her, gold and coinage were for trade and survival, not for hoarding for how it looked. She'd grown up poor and had always been confused by how people felt over such odd things. They held no memory nor love or fondness; it was cold and heartless and was often passed from hand to hand to hand or worn upon someone to show status and wealth.

They looked at her for a few moments but before anyone could say anything, a great rumble rocked the Mountain. Smaug had awoken. The next few moments were a flurry of activity and panic. The tunnel was chosen as a place to hide but they had to get Bofur and Bombur up the Mountain first lest they be found and killed. Hauling up Bofur was easy but Bombur was difficult. Eventually they managed to get him up and they all hid in the tunnel, the door carefully propped open with a rock.

The Dragon roared and threw out his fire above them and the Mountain and they tucked themselves tight in the tunnel, none daring to think what would happen should he find them. Soon, he became distant and after a long moment of his absence, they debated on what to do next. Bilbo came to the rescue once more, laying out a plan to keep low and to only allow two to venture down the Mountain when they needed to replenish their supplies.

As they talked of Bilbo willing to go and find the Dragons weakness, Ferin let her head drop back to the tunnel wall. Sweat was already dampening her clothes and hair, the heat near unbearable. It was stuffy and cloying and grimy but they had no other choice. She would rest for a bit to calm her heart...

She woke from the light doze the heat had forced her into when Bilbo passed over her legs to go down to the beast's lair.

"Take care," she murmured and he nodded bravely before moving on.

Ferin made her way outside with the others, taking in the fresher air and it was well into the evening before they heard the Hobbit at the door. He collapsed in a heap, his clothes and hair smoking.

They rushed to his side and looked after his wounds as best they could, listening to him tell of the soft spot on Smaug's underbelly. A flutter nearby alerted her to the Thrush and it clicked in her mind. _So that was how Bard knew._

Unwilling and entirely unable to change the Fate of the lake town, Ferin could only pick up on Bilbo's worry about them lingering in the grassy notch. She wanted to heed his warning but was unsure as to how to proceed. It was several hours before Bilbo once again insisted that they move and they did so eventually, Ferin keeping a close eye on him throughout. He looked disturbed by what the Dragon had said but there was little comfort she could offer beyond what she had told him already of the Arkenstone and the battle.

They propped the door open and kept a short ways inside, desperate to keep fresh air nearby as well as a means of escape. The hours turned long and many began to doze, squashed and haphazardly placed inside the tunnel.

In the darkness, Ferin watched Thorin by Bilbo's side, feeling a great unease among the company. She thought she'd heard him say something about the Arkenstone in the quiet but after a few moments he said no more. _It was already beginning and they'd only seen a cup,_ she thought. It would affect all of them, she knew, but the fear of Thorin succumbing to it like his grandfather made the hair on the back of her neck and arms stand on end.

Suddenly Bilbo made a noise of distress and urged them to close the door. Thorin kicked away the stone and none too soon for a great booming clash erupted outside. They scrambled up quickly and ran down the tunnel just as the rock around the door began to shake and crumble. The noise was deafening; roars and heat and dust surrounded them and then suddenly it stopped.

A long while passed before they ventured toward the door, desperate to escape the clawing heat but Ferin knew they were trapped. The door had closed and if it hadn't, that noise outside it would not have improved their odds of an egress.

And so they were trapped in the dark and heat, the only way out being through the lair of the beast...

_No turning back now._


	16. Breath

**A/N: Well hello there! Grammar for this one was a bit of a bitch but I think I wrangled most of it. If I missed spots I apologise. This chapter has been written, left for a day, re-written, left, written some more and corrected again so whew! I also took a few liberties with timing, areas, etc etc. Reading the book and trying to stick to it as much as possible can be hard at times.**

**I've recently stumbled across James Nesbitt's series Jekyll and I have become obsessed! That man is utterly sexy and fantastic and makes Bofur more eager to get my attention but it can't be done yet Bofur! I'm sorry but you've been patient so far and I can only hope I can write you a story soon.**

**Seriously though... Hyde, gorgeous James Nesbitt and black eyes and that grin...umfph!**

**Sneak in a picture? Yes, yes I will: **** jabw/ manips/ **. (Take out the spaces. doesn't like links apparently.)

**Anywho! Thank you to my reviewers and followers: **

**Loki'sdreamer: Glad you enjoyed. Hope you enjoy this one!**

** 2: I have updated! Hope you like!**

**NavyReservist: That is a wonderful compliments my dear! And thank you for the recommendation! I've never had anyone recommend any of my fics before but that's probably because I don't post most of them!**

**UKReader: Thank you! I try to make it as balanced as possible but some things are easier to write naturally. I'm often surprised by the way the characters can react and how a simple change can change the whole storyline.**

**Renee: Well... *grins* I think you'll like this one. This has the outcome of what happens to Ferin but you'll have to read to find out.**

**LilithLieLoveHeart: Haha! Thank you as always! Hope you enjoy!**

**DarknessMakesMeSmile: Thank you, hope you enjoy the rest!**

**MugglebornPrincesa: I hated it myself. I understand the possibility of it from Tolkein's writings and characterisation of the Dwarves but it seems a shame that The Hobbit is actually quite sparse as far as character depth goes. I can only hope Peter Jackson makes it good!**

**Theslopokewriter: I really like your name! And thank you! I'm glad I've kept you interested to read all fifteen chapters so far! Hope you enjoy this one!**

**Tathal: Thank you so much for your reviews. They've made my day! I hope this chapter settles a few things for you and you're right, I never did say what Ferin's hair colour was! It is a very ordinary light brown. I also loved that you pointed out the bits you liked! I love those parts as well and can only hope that I will have brighter chapters with more fun and laughter in them because they are very fun to write!**

**BattiBeff: Hope you enjoy this chapter! I have reduced the Battle to the important bits because I don't see a point in rehashing the entire thing. It was the same with many other scenes like the Trolls, the Goblin escape and even Rivendell and the reading the map by the Moonlight because those moments people generally know off by heart by know (if you're as obsessed with it as me!) so they are often the perfect opportunity to introduce new scenes or character interaction so I hope I don't disappoint with lack of action, especially since it's been rehashed in visions previous to this as well.**

**Right! Enough of my rambling and thanking! On with the reading and enjoyment!**

**Blue xx**

* * *

_Muted sounds..._

_A blackened sky..._

_Blood..._

_Sweat..._

_Breathless..._

_Exhausted muscles protested her movement but Ferin could only feel determination at the familiar scene. Forcing herself up, she swiped at the sweat and blood that dripped from her hair and face. From the pain in her chest and leg, she suspected some fractured ribs and a sprained ankle would be added to the cuts and bruises but they had to be ignored._

_An Orc came at her from the right and with a practiced swing, born of unlimited access to the visions; she cut clean across its roaring throat. Another few steps and a Warg leapt overhead, her sword thrust upwards to gut it; it was dead before it hit the ground. More steps, more deaths; a thrust, a parry, a dodge and she was there by his side._

_Thorin bellowed a deep cry, trying his best to fight the crush of enemies that swarmed him._

_Behind him, several meters away, Dwalin fought to reach his King, Vala shadowing his every step._

"You can help, Vala," Ferin had told her friend the night in the town by the fire. "But you must stay by Dwalin's side. It is imperative or neither you or Thorin will survive."

_They reached them and helped to fight back the hoard at Thorin's flank._

_Ferin took her place at Thorin's side and with renewed purpose forced her body to move. _

_Someone shouted and Fili and Kili came to their aid, a set of Elves accompanying them. Ferin's letter to Legolas had ensured his few compatriots would aid the young Prince's. They would be protected. They would survive._

_What felt like hours passed them by... Ferin could no longer feel her fingers, body numb from shock and pain and exhaustion but she had to keep going. _

_When the Eagle's cry tore across the land, the relief it brought was staggering but they could not stop._

_When the hoard thinned, they could barely take a breath when Azog appeared in full charge atop his white Warg._

_Time slowed..._

_This part, Ferin could never change. Each important detail was lost to a pulsing set of dark images that beat to a very slow heart. Every thump showed something and then faded like a slow blink before the next one arose._

_Thump thump - Kili loosed an arrow – _

_Thump thump - The Warg fell..._

_Thump thump - Azog rose in fury and charged – _

_Thump thump - He was defeated..._

_Thump thump - His second in command stepped toward Thorin from behind and aimed his weapon..._

_Thump thump –Ferin ran forward to cut him down – _

_The pulsing images stopped but the thumping rushed through her ears._

"_No!"_

_Her knees hit the ground. Looking down, the blade of a spear protruded out of her chest._

_Thump thump._

_Thorin was suddenly in front of her, holding her up by the shoulders. His skin was ashen under the filth of battle._

_She laughed at the failure, blood bubbling up and choking her, spilling from her pale lips._

"_Stay with me."_

"_I'm sorry," she gasped. "I tried."_

I tried.

Ferin woke with a gasp, eyes wet and muscles straining against the pain. Rearing up from her position on the pile of gold she'd dozed off in, she lost her footing and fell, the gold unwilling to support her. It jingled and slid with her, the rush of sound grating in her ears until she landed with an explosion of air at the bottom.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Ferin rose to her elbows and knees and screamed out her frustration. The echoing sound built and built and she screamed and shouted and surged to her feet, handfuls of gold imprinting on her palms with the force of her grip. "What do you want from me!? What can I _do?"_

She roared and tore at her hair before reaching down to hurl a large block of gold littered with jewels. It clattered against a stone pillar, the mortar cracking. "_Tell me!_"

She picked up more and more blocks and heavy cups and jewellery; relentless in her anger but the more she tried to rid herself of the metal, the angrier she grew. Why was there so much? Why was their death worth this? Why was _her_ death worth this? Why was it so important?

"_I've tried!_" she yelled, tossing a cup where it clinked harmlessly into another pile of unmoving gold.

And she had. For days and days she'd tried to talk them all into sense, into seeing the sickness that was consuming them and their King. She'd spent days with visions of battle and the haunting question that she'd have to ask Bilbo. She'd spent days arguing with Thorin to see the sense in giving Bard his rightful share that the Dragon had taken from Dale. She'd spent days fuming at the Elves audacity to aid the fallen Lake-town when they'd refused to help the Dwarves so long ago and she'd spent days trying to come to the terms of her death, that it would not change no matter how hard she tried.

It would happen soon. She knew that but she felt helpless that it couldn't be stopped. Each step she had to take was memorised in her mind, every part analysed and picked apart to ensure the safety of Thorin and his sister-sons but still, she would die and she was exhausted trying to fight against the battle she hadn't foreseen; one against Thorin's stubbornness and greed and the Elves and Human's reluctance to back down. They would _need_ each other, couldn't they see that? And she knew – she _knew_ that there was something she was supposed to do to trigger events so that the path would turn in her favour. Not knowing what was needed burned her but she'd looked and looked and in the end she just _didn't know what to do._

Collapsing to her knees with a sob, Ferin released the coins that remained in her hands. "I don't know what to do. _I don't know what to do_. Please. Please help me. I can't fight this anymore. I need it to _stop_."

Groaning when there was no answer, Ferin reached up and pulled at her hair, stopping with a wince when her ragged fingernails, born from scraping through gold and trailing them along the walls in desperate pacing, tangled in the braid. Sighing, she ran rough fingers over the smooth beads and thought of her own fashioned gifts she still had not given to Thorin.

She would have to give them, she thought. She had made them and had cared for them and they shone with the reflection of the torchlight in the chamber. Her many arguments with Thorin had led her to polish them frequently as a way to distract her murderous but, more often than not, sorrowful thoughts.

It wasn't his fault really, that he had become sick from gold lust. They all had, it was just in them to be that way, especially after so long from home. She'd intended to give them to him earlier, before Bard had arrived but once he and the Elves had, their arguments had only increased. One such argument had infuriated and hurt her so much, she'd almost left right then and there.

"_Be reasonable Thorin, please," she said softly, standing on a blanket of gold with Balin while Thorin paced around them in search of his Heart._

"_Do not speak to me about reason," he warned, not even glancing up at her. _

_Ferin fingered the clasps she'd made him habitually; the only comfort she had in this vast chamber of metal and madness. "Bard only seeks the gold owed him by the Dragon's theft. He has a right to it like you have a right to yours."_

"_I will give no gold to that – "_

"_Thorin," Balin warned, his own previously wandering eyes fixing on the younger Dwarf. He'd been doing well combating the sickness and had volunteered to come with her for support._

"_Please," she tried again. "Look what this search is doing to you. You are sick, Thorin. This is no way to begin your ruling. Bard slayed the Dragon and you have your Mountain and your gold. There is enough to share and there is more to gain."_

_He whipped around with a furious glare. "Do not speak as if you know me! Do not talk of my home as if it's yours! If you wish to give him gold then give him your share and be gone with you!"_

_Ferin gritted her teeth at the blow, refusing to allow him to see how much he could get to her. Thorin had been increasingly hostile toward her since they'd heard nothing of the Smaug and he often threw out sudden, harsh words to push her away. It felt like another lifetime since he'd last grasped her shoulder or brushed her hand with his. "I would if I could."_

"_What?"_

"_I don't have gold to share. If I did I would gladly give it to stop this madness. Look at you! You are si – "_

_Thorin approached her swiftly and gripped her shirt at the collar. "You will take your share and you will leave this Mountain. Give your gold to Bard and the filth that aid him! You have been against me since we have reclaimed Erebor and I watch you," he growled. "I've seen you in this chamber, searching like me. I know you seek the Arkenstone."_

_Ferin's eyes widened at the ridiculous accusation but it only served to make her look like she'd been caught. He didn't know she'd been searching for the Arkenstone for him, to protect him. She'd searched with them until she'd noticed Bilbo's sleight of hand at the beginning and she hadn't searched since. He obviously thought that once was enough._

_He threw her away and she stumbled at the force of it, mouth horribly, regretfully silent in her own defence. He seemed to take it for a conformation, dismissing her to begin his search again._

"_I never wanted your treasure," she whispered, breath shaking with the effort. "I still don't and no matter how much I want to, I can't give Bard my gold because I don't_ have _any."_

_Again without turning from her, he growled, "You signed the contract. I will hold the honour of it but you are dismissed. I do not wish to set my sight on you again."_

_Ferin breathed deeply to try to cease the flow of tears that threatened, and turned to walk away._

Ferin frowned at the memory of the argument. She'd made a decision then; she would leave the Mountain and join Gandalf. There she would wait it out but not just yet.

Looking up from the clasps, Ferin realised she had walked to the Front Gate in her thoughts. In her hands, she rolled the clasps again before looking over to find Bilbo sitting nearby against a wall, looking out at a guarding Fili and Kili. Beyond them, and the roughly hewn stone blockade they'd created, Ferin knew the Elves and Bard waited for Thorin's change of heart.

He would not have one she knew.

Bilbo shifted and spotted her. "Are you alright?"

Ferin walked over to him and crouched down. He pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them. "No," she said quietly. "I'm not."

He hesitated a moment and Ferin could not muster the feeling to care what he had to say. She had no ill will towards the Hobbit, not by any means, but after so long fighting a losing battle and so very little sleep, Ferin could not gather much energy to care about anything. "I heard you screaming in the chamber."

Ferin sighed and looked away, fingers moving restlessly, obsessively. The gifts were all she had left to ground her.

"You look as lost as I feel." He tried to smile but it came out wrong and he seemed to know it. "You said you would have to ask me a question."

Ferin hadn't expected that and frowned at him. Where had that come from? "I regret to say that I don't know what to ask anymore, my friend."

"What were you going to ask?"

"To give it to me," she murmured, taking care to not let the others overhear by the entrance or the resting place they'd found nearby; an old Gaurds house, small but enough space to sit at least four Dwarves comfortably. There was another on the other side but it had crumbled long ago. The Arkenstone had been fascinating when he'd let her sneak a peek at it several days before but after a few minutes, it began to hold less appeal than she'd thought it would.

It was a beautiful jewel; almost like a star that shifted and glimmered in a river's rippled reflection... but it was a rock; a large, shiny rock. And in the back of her mind, Ferin suspected her heritage had never had Dwarf blood in it for surely this beautiful element would make her possessive and as greedy as the rest of them... but it only made her think of Thorin; of how lost he looked, how obsessed he seemed and how distressed he became the longer it took to find it.

Bilbo froze, his toes curling at the thought of her answer before he let go, looking away towards the young Princes at the wall. He knew the consequences of his choice but she'd seen his fascination with the stone; knew he struggled to understand what it was doing to him and she had worried he would give her the wrong answer. It didn't matter now. "And now?"

"I don't want it."

He looked back at her and smiled in sympathy. "You never did I would imagine." _Not like I do, _he seemed to say.

"No," she agreed.

"Were you going to give it to him?"

"I have thought about it."

"But?"

"I think that would only reinforce the sickness and his decision. He could be lost further and everything would follow. He may not die but he would slip away bit by bit in this hell without ever escaping it. It wouldn't be worth it and I couldn't do that to him."

"Keeping it doesn't seem to be helping either," Bilbo said after a few minutes thought.

Ferin looked at him and he looked at her and they seemed to come to a thought together. Bilbo blinked and sighed heavily, clenching his fingers and toes before releasing them. "I'll do what I was supposed to do. I'll bring it to Bard and Thranduil."

Ferin said nothing but her fingers stopped their fidgeting on the clasps. He was right. There was no other way to set things in motion but if that decision remained the same, then what was Ferin supposed to trigger to turn the path in her favour?

"I'm sorry that you must do this Bilbo but you will survive it. All I can say is to mind what he says. He is ill and he does not mean it. The stone has a lure of its own..."

Bilbo smiled grimly. "I know, and thank you."

Nodding, Ferin grasped his shoulder briefly in support before rising.

Not knowing what else to do, Ferin walked to the wall and stood behind the Princes. It was happening soon and there would not be much time to say goodbye. And she didn't wish to. They did not know their Fate or hers.

Grasping them on the shoulder each, Ferin squeezed them in comfort, seeing the flashes of smiles they gave her before moving back towards Balin by the resting place. He was several feet out and was approaching Bilbo. He stopped when he saw her on the way.

"Are you alright, lass?"

Ferin did not answer him for a moment before nodding. "As well as I can be, Balin. Have you seen Thorin?"

He smiled in understanding. "Aye. He's inside."

Ferin nodded, looking away. She didn't want to say goodbye to Balin either. She'd never been very good at them. Her mother had said goodbye when she'd lain in bed with illness and it had been one of those moments where time seemed infinite and too quick at the same time. It was a lifetime in that moment where her mother had been there, _right there, _alive and breathing and smiling at her and then in the blink of an eye it was over. Her spirit was gone and the energy in the room left with her. In a way, Ferin suspected she'd taken a part of her too. She'd said goodbye, and to Ferin, it had created a gap that she felt she would never be able to close.

Closing her eyes and nodding, Ferin left him to enter. It was dark inside but she could make out Thorin's shadowed form near the back, sitting on the floor. A few minutes and the dark seemed to be less penetrating so she made her way to his side. He said nothing when she approached but tensed when she sat beside him, touching her shoulder off his. It would probably be the last comfort she would get so she would crowd him and take what she could.

The silence stretched and his tense posture did not relent. Finally, she spoke. "I never signed the contract."

Pressed against him as she was, she could feel the subtle shift in his arm and could pick out the minute turn of his head towards her.

"Balin offered it to me in Rivendell when I recovered from Moira's spell but I refused it."

It took a few moments but he finally relented. "Why?"

She sighed, tipping her head back to look at the ceiling, not actually seeing it. "I came on this journey to die, Thorin."

His head definitely turned toward her now but she didn't - _couldn't_ look at him. "What?"

"The only thing I had in this world worth keeping was my friendship with Vala and that has only been for the last few years. Before that I had very little. I drank away my sorrow and I made bad friends and made even more terrible mistakes. I joined an army to make myself useful and when I became a leader, I failed. I was dismissed and I found I was suddenly on my own again. I had no family, no friends and everywhere I went I was shunned because of my mark.

And then I met Vala. She wouldn't leave me alone no matter what I tried so I finally accepted her in my life and I have no regrets there. But Vala is human and I am... I don't know what I am but I knew I would outlive her in age and the thought of losing the only thing I had frightened me. So I let her leave on her own journey and managed to get myself into a bind with Moira but still I could not face the choices I had made so I shut myself away and pushed her further from me when I could. I had to make her understand that staying with me would only cause her pain but she wouldn't leave and I was becoming more and more frightened..."

She sighed, adjusting herself to press further into his warmth and her fingers took up the familiar fiddling with the clasps. "When Gandalf found me and told me of your plight, I saw an opportunity. I would help someone one last time to find something I could not; to fight for something I would never have and I would die trying. I expected to die. I _wanted_ to die. It was the only good thing I could do to make up for my mistakes.

"But then I got to know you all and I began to remember what it was like to have friends and companions. You didn't see my scars and after a time, you didn't care about my past. I was accepted and treated fairly.

"I didn't sign your contract," she said, "because it would've been pointless and unfair to the others. I don't want your gold. I don't want your Arkenstone and I don't want your home." _I only want you, but that is impossible._

It was a long while before he spoke. In the time of his silence, Ferin thought about what he would say and what she would do after this conversation. She would leave, for certain, across the wall to Gandalf and the others. Staying here was not an option.

"And now?"

She sighed. "It doesn't matter now. You wanted to know what the visions were." He nodded. "I have been experiencing my death. I will not live past these next few days and I wanted to make amends before I left."

He frowned but it was hard to see the rest of his expression in the dark and she did not want to have an in depth conversation about how she would die and why. That was not for him to know.

To distract him, she opened her hand, holding out the clasps to him. "I made these days ago for you and I might as well give them now." He picked them up, turning them to try and pick out what they were. Suddenly embarrassed by how intent he was trying to see them, Ferin bit her lip. "They are clasps for your hair. I'm sure you have fancier ones around her somewhere, ones more fit for the status of a King but I would hope you will take them as something to remember me by. The writing is in my mother's native tongue. This one says friendship and that one has the name my mother called me. I suppose it would be like a true name, like the boys gave me on the bracelets."

He said nothing and Ferin felt a sudden pain in her chest that travelled down to her stomach, heart thumping wildly at the prospect of what he was thinking. When he said nothing for several minutes, Ferin could no longer stay to find out. With a deep breath she pushed herself up and quickly dusted off her breeches.

Without looking up, she spoke. "I have to go. I hope you fare well, Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror. I am glad to have met you."

She spun quickly and strode away, not hesitating in turning towards the wall for her escape. Fili and Kili greeted her but she did not respond. Grabbing her weapons from where she'd left them by a nook near the wall, she grabbed the ladder and placed it against the stone, climbing up and leaping over. The Princes protesting was ignored, as was Vala's when she ran to join them, and the pain in her legs from the landing barely registered.

Heart thumping, eyes wet and lip bleeding from the harsh press of teeth, Ferin began to run. It wasn't until a pair of heavy hands landed on her shoulders that she stopped with a gasp, collapsing into an embrace by the Wizard who'd stopped her.

He whispered nonsense words to her until she calmed and fell into a sudden spell induced sleep by the bank.

She had not known that her decision in giving Thorin the clasps, as well as explaining their meaning, was the trigger that was required to set the correct path in motion. Nor had she known that her presence, her story and the simple press of her side against his, had shaken Thorin out of some of his gold sickness. Holding the clasps in his hand had rendered him silent. Here was this woman who asked for nothing, even when she had the right to, offering him the only thing she had left...

Herself.

* * *

Several days later, Ferin was sitting by the bank of the river in silence, fingers playing with the stones for lack of the clasps she'd taken to worry over. She felt numb and burned out after her talk with Gandalf earlier that day. He'd spent two days trying to talk to her but she hadn't the will to speak without snapping so she'd remained silent. But that evening, he'd come to her at the bank and had tried to talk her into seeing reason. He had wanted to understand what had happened but she had refused him at first so Gandalf had begun to talk about everything and nothing before it came back to Thorin once more. The wizard had called him stubborn and ridiculous and foolish and Ferin had had enough. She'd surged to her feet and had growled and lashed at him violently. He'd stopped abruptly with a frown, watching her pace like a caged animal along the shore.

Finally, after much deliberation and a regretful thought that he should've been with them during this time, he had asked to understand so she had talked and talked, telling him and only him, everything that had happened and that would happen. She'd hissed and growled in the privacy of the river bank and a small spell, that he had no right to understand, that he hadn't been there. He hadn't seen Thorin's distress; hadn't seen his fierce desire to keep what had been so unfairly taken from him and his kin. He hadn't seen the sickness consume him and he hadn't been there to stop it and that she'd _tried_ and she'd _failed_. She clenched her hands and pulled her hair in the pure fury that she felt towards him and the Elves and Bard and she often felt that it would have been hot enough to burn Smaug and melt gold.

She had raged over the Elves and Men protesting the standing of the Dwarves and that they could not understand their hostility or Thorin's decision. The Mountain was rightfully claimed and Thorin and his kin had a right to take on defence. The Elves and Men had arrived there quite suddenly with demands to have a rightful claim of the treasure and had come armed! What had they expected?

Yes, Bard had killed the Dragon but he had not gone into the layer to do so. He'd not taken Men to Dale to reclaim his father's place in the city for fear of the danger that lurked there. He had not rushed to the aid of the Dwarves when he'd heard of their journey so yes, he had a right to claim what had been taken from Dale but to demand it by showing up on the doorstep of tired, outnumbered Dwarves had not been the correct way to do it.

_The same of Thranduil_, she thought viciously now, frowning at the rippling water when she threw a rock in. She'd raged even more at Gandalf about that being. The Elven King had borne the brunt of Ferin's anger in those few days for he often felt the need to ensure the safety and comfort of his own and the Men's comrades and soldiers. Ferin had almost cracked her teeth from the effort of not lashing out at his choice. He had aided these men with ease but had abandoned the Dwarves to the same Dragon long ago and here he was, expecting gold like Bard as if he had a right to it.

Panting, Ferin had run out of energy and had slumped into a crouch, burying her face in her hands. Gandalf had smoked his pipe, eyes glassy while he pondered everything she had said. In the long quiet moment between them, Bilbo had arrived with the Arkenstone and Gandalf had been needed in the Kings tent for a meeting. Before he'd left her, he'd approached her and laid a gnarled hand on her shoulder. "I am sorry."

The tone he had used had been strong and remorseful. Ferin believed the truthfulness of it but could not accept it readily. It was too late for sorry.

"So am I."

Footsteps brought Ferin out of her thoughts, Gandalf having left an hour or so ago. She looked up to find a fair Ellon striding towards her. She stood, ignoring the cramp in her legs from crouching for so long and watched him approach warily. Her posture must have made him rethink his purpose for his stride faltered a bit before righting himself.

He greeted her formally. "I have something for you," he began when she gave no response. "He has said to tell you it is from a friend and that he wishes you well in your journey."

Ferin frowned when the Elf brought up his hand to see two familiar blades in finer scabbards than she had last seen them in. He presented them to her with a small tilt of his head and an encouraging smile.

Had he presented them before she'd entered Erebor, Ferin would have gladly taken them. Now, however, they looked too grand in their fine leather sheaths studded with Elven markings. They were not her swords, she thought in wonder. They never had been. Not really.

"I thank you and your 'friend'," she knew he meant Legolas, for who else could it have been; she'd written of her plight and the battle to come and the aid they would need but she had explicitly asked him to keep details of it secret. "But I cannot accept these."

The Elf opened his mouth, hesitating at the obvious refusal.

"I mean no insult to your Prince by it but I have grown used to these swords," she gestured to the heavier, darker blades that rested by her feet. "I will not adapt well enough should I need them."

A blatant lie and he seemed to know it but he was thankfully discreet. Bowing his head, he smiled at her and retreated back to camp without another word. He was a smart one.

Sighing, Ferin picked up the swords she'd left on the softer sandy bank and removed them from their scabbards. Hefting them, she practiced her swings and thrusts, the dark blade barely reflecting in the moonlight. She'd carved a notch in one of the handles so she would always know which one would fit best in each hand. She'd grown used to wielding them in the darkened hallways of Erebor and treasured the strength needed to wield them. Thorin obviously had no question of her skill and didn't cater to what she would be used to. He obviously thought she could handle them well so she had tried her level best to become an expert at the shifting weight and odd balance. The challenge had kept her as sane as fiddling with the clasps.

She could only hope her skill with them was enough to win the path she hoped would come to pass.

* * *

The sky was darker, the sounds sharper and the pain harsher than her visions had foretold. They'd been fighting for hours and Ferin could feel her strength waning. The Elves, Men and Dwarves had fared well so far but they were severely outnumbered. Before long a new wave of enemies breeched their barrier and progress to defeat them was slow. A split lip, cracked ribs and several sprains and cuts were ignored in favour of keeping a sharp eye for Thorin and the others. They had not come forth from the Gate and a small part of her wished that they would stay there and stay safe.

Distracted, Ferin did not see the Warg until it was right on top of her but a hard shove by an Elf, the same one who'd offered her Legolas' swords, put her off its path of destruction. The force of the shove made her stumble backwards over an unknown body and the pain that bloomed at the back of her head was short lived...

When she came to, she looked up to find the familiar sky and sounds from her vision. It would happen soon.

Rising and gritting her teeth through the pain, she forced onwards, knowing the path by heart. She was prepared for the Orc to appear to her right, the easy swing of her blade arching through the air to cut across its throat. A snarl to her right was a Warg; the beast leapt through the air to take her but she crouched and swiftly thrust her other blade into its gut, slicing through to its tail bone.

Several more went down with little effort due to her knowledge and then she was at Thorin's side, roaring with him when they took down the hoard. Dwalin and Vala's shouts could barely be heard through the noise but they were suddenly there and fighting them off as well.

An arrow dashed past her shoulder to embed itself in a Warg's head to her right and Fili and Kili joined the fray, three Elves with them to provide aid where none would have been had Ferin not asked Legolas to send his most trusted and skilled soldiers to the young Princes during the battle.

The swarm of Orcs and Goblin's retreated and Beorn's roar made many scatter, the large bear hulking though bodies like they were grass. The Eagle's arrived soon after but the relief was short lived. Azog approached and Ferin could only watch helplessly when Thorin rose to the challenge; she tried her best to allow him to fight this battle on his own, fighting with Vala and Dwalin to scatter the remaining few Orc's and Goblin's that dared approach them.

A pained roar, animalistic and deafening echoed around them and Ferin turned. Azog had fallen, his other arm lanced from his body. He cried out in despair but Thorin had no pity for such a creature. He swiftly stepped forward and rendered his head from his body, a fitting revenge.

Ferin grinned in relief, exhausted and sore but they had done it. The enemy retreated, slain or scattered and Azog was dead.

Her grin faded at Dwalin's shout behind her. Looking over she could see Azog's soldier rise with a spear, vicious snarl marring his horrible features.

The Orc that was destined to kill her...

He raised the spear and with all the strength he had left he threw it, the blade cutting through the air. She didn't think. She acted instead. With a cry she ran forward when Thorin turned and tried to shove him away -

The pain seared through her and it was much worse than the visions had foretold. She gasped and collapsed to her knees, Thorin rushing to keep her up. Looking down, the blade, red with her blood pierced through her left lung and had surely gotten to her heart. Sounds drifted away and came back. The pain throbbed in time to her struggling heart and Thorin's breathing was _loud, so loud_. Ferin slumped forward, trying her best to breathe but there wasn't enough air and it _hurt it hurt help me please._

This part she had never seen. This was when she woke up. She never actually died in the vision but she knew she would. There was no waking from this. It was too real and too severe and she wouldn't heal from this. She wouldn't. She wouldn't.

"Stay with me."

Trying to speak only brought forth the pool of blood that wouldn't stop pouring into her mouth. Leaning forward, she brought her forehead to his, hand reaching up to grip his hair. She was losing feeling and she had to touch him. She _had_ to. Her vision was dimming and it was getting harder to breath and her limbs began to feel sluggish and _it hurts I don't want to die it hurts what's happening help me._

"'M sorry," she mumbled, panicking when her hand could no longer grip his hair. It slipped to his shoulder and she didn't have the energy to grab it. She didn't want to let go. _Don't let me let go. Please. I don't want to go. I don't want to leave._ "Thorin..." she whined, tears spilling heedlessly down her cheeks.

"Stay with me." His hands had been gripping her shoulders she knew but her skin was numb now and she could not longer feel them. A sharp crack and a pain and the world tilted. They'd broken the back of the spear and he quickly adjusted her to rest her head in the crook of his arm. Looking up to get one last glimpse of his eyes before she went, she sobbed when she saw her gifts in his hair, just behind his ear. It fell forward and swung gently when he bent his head over her. She couldn't place his expression, her mind sluggish...

A dull pain registered at her chest. She choked at the rising blood, eyes fluttering and vision blurring and then nothing...

* * *

Sounds. There were sounds but why?

Why does it hurt?

What's happening?

Help me.

Please.

Thorin.

"Hush, dear. Trying to move and speak won't help you much." The voice was familiar but Ferin couldn't place it.

Thorin.

"He's here. Now stop trying to move. It was bad enough they yanked the bloody thing out but to do it so far from help!? Men I tell you, no matter the Race, are idiots."

Hurts.

"I'd imagine so. Never been speared myself before but this wound's deep and looks very painful. I've fixed your heart and lung but there will be some damage to fix on both your back and front. I'm afraid another scar on your chest and back, dear."

Fuck.

Alive?

"Oh yes, very much so and if you'd go back to sleep while I fix this hole, you'll be happier. So would I for that matter. Thought we'd lost you for a while, didn't we young man?"

There was no response but something warm enveloped her hand.

"Now you go back to sleep and I'll fix you up. You, my young Dwarf King will have to wait outside."

No. Stay.

"He can't stay."

Stay.

"Don't be stubborn!"

_Stay_.

"He'll see you undressed," came another feminine voice from across the room. It was not familiar.

Don't care.

"But – "

Don't care. Stay. Need to stay. Please. Not alone.

"Alright, calm yourself! You'll dismantle the spells I've done to your heart you silly thing! He'll stay."

Ferin calmed and the hand tightened. Something tickled her temple and suddenly she was dragged down to sleep.


	17. A Girl Could Get Used To This

**A/N: Over one hundred reviews! Wow! Thank you so much. I'm blown away, truly. I couldn't believe it. I actually did a little dance of joy. Thank god no one was around to see it! This one was a little difficult to get out because the main bulk of the Hobbit is over so now I'm on my own. Once I got going it was ok but starting it, whew!**

**I couldn't let Ferin die! I never planned to for there would be only tragedy and boring story otherwise so I'm sorry for the torture! Love you all for sticking with me through it though.**

**Thank you to my followers and reviewers as always:**

**Loki'sdreamer: I'm delighted that you're happy! Hope you enjoy the rest now!**

**He rerra. elena 2: You know I think this site thinks your name is a link for some reason, which is why it keeps disappearing. Sorry, my dear if you thought I wasn't answering you (I put in the awkward spaces to try and fix it!). Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**LilithLieLoveheart: Sorry! If I didn't have cliffhangers it would all be one massive chapter! I'll do my best to end them naturally!**

**Devryn: I'm glad you thought it was action-packed. I was worried it was too much or too little but so glad you enjoyed it!**

**UKReader: Hope you like more!**

**Aramoorn: Sorry if I made it too fast! I thought it best to get it done for the suspense was killing me as well! Glad you enjoyed it all the same though!**

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**Westwingnut221: I'm clinging to you for your wonderful feedback on the intimacy! Thank you! There will be more since the main horrbilness is over. And is it horrible that I like that I made you read it all in one go? I do this myself with fanfictions I'm really into and it's one of the best compliments I've ever gotten so thank you! Sorry I made you cry though!**

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**Tathal: You, my friend are one perceptive person! Reading your review, I was like... Does she know? How could she know? I didn't think anyone would pick up on some of the smaller things but I'm sure others have but wow! Perceptive person indeed! Love it!**

**Samolfran: No worries at all! I'm just glad you could enjoy it even if you couldn't review. Hope you keep enjoying it!**

**BattiBeff: I hope you like this one. Not much action but more character driven. I think there was plenty of action in the last one but I do hope you get your answers here!**

**Remus Hroozley: I'm both glad and sorry I made you cry and I'm also having a fangirly moment where I have found another Stargate fan wooooooo! Ahem, sorry. And it wasn't until you said that that I realised, you're right! And I agree about having Ferin not being the only female. It would be hard to relate to thirteen men on a journey so I thought introducing Vala as a feedback for Ferin and individual character herself would be helpful and fun!**

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**This entire note has taken up a page and a half of Word. How awesome is that that most of it is responses to fantastic reviews!**

**Onwards!**

**Blue xx**

* * *

The pain was sharp and insistent; her head throbbed, her chest burned and her muscles ached.

Small fingers ran over her face, gently testing bruises and wounds and Ferin hissed when they passed over her torn lip. The fingers abruptly left before coming back to tug at the blankets to tend to her chest.

"Hello, dear."

Ferin frowned. That was the same voice from before.

"Mmor..." she slurred to the voice.

"Yes, it's Moira," the voice said crisply, hands busy fluttering over cuts and broken ribs and the wound on her chest. Ferin struggled to open her eyes. "You shouldn't be awake yet."

A sudden tingling began across her forehead but Ferin protested. "No. No sleep."

"Ferin," she warned.

"No."

Moira sighed and the tingling went away. After a few minutes, she managed to open her eyes to see the fabric of a white tent above her but could not turn her head to look elsewhere. The bright light of day stung her eyes and the pain of sunlight on top of everything else nearly made her black out.

"Thorin, be a dear and lift her for me. I need to tend her back."

The sheet was moved and cool air ran over her chest and arms and an odd distant thought ran around her hazy mind. She was naked. She _had_ to be. The air snuck under the sheets and ran down to her toes without a barrier; she struggled to move to catch the sheet and yank it back up but she couldn't move.

She was naked in a flimsy tent in the middle of a battlefield and she couldn't move. That was not good and everything _hurt _and why couldn't she move?

"Ferin calm down," Moira said firmly, peering over into her line of sight. The wrinkles looked more severe and dark skin circled her eyes. The Witch looked as haggard as she felt. "It took me hours to fix your heart and lungs, don't destroy it now. Thorin, quickly now before she opens them up."

Glancing to the right, she could just make out the slightly blurry image of his hair when he bent towards her. His hot hands slid underneath her arms, a hand moving to support her head and he lifted her swiftly but gently to sit up in his embrace, exposing her back. She cried out at the sharp spike of pain that ran along her ribs and back at the movement. _Oh_ _that hurt that hurt that hurt. _Sucking in a deep breath, she tried to lift her arms to grab his tunic for support but they wouldn't move either.

Ferin felt her heart drop into her stomach. Why could she feel his hands on her skin, her chest against his and the brush of his hair against her face and not be able to move? Was she damaged in some cruel way that allowed her to feel and not move? Eyes widening at the implications of surviving only to live this way, Ferin's gaze rapidly moved around the room but she did not take any of it in.

"Why can't I move?"

"Hmm? I've cast a spell to keep you as immobilised as possible. If you move around too much the spells will unravel and open the wounds and you'll bleed out." Something wet was applied to her shoulder blade and the skin was pulled taught. It stung, sending a ripple of pain down her spine to her hip. Ferin gritted her teeth against it but even that hurt, the throb from her jaw adding to her aching head. _At least it was a spell and not damage_, she thought.

"I don't like not being able to move, Moira," she growled. "Please – "

"No, Ferin. I'm sorry. They are too delicate for you to be moving around and undoing it all."

"I promise I won't do any damage but you can't just – "

"Don't be so stubborn!" The pain increased and Moira's hands were placed on either side of the wound and the heat that radiated from them burned like fire.

"Moira!"

"Oh alright!"

Ferin shuddered, biting her lip to stop crying out when the spell was suddenly released and she sagged against Thorin. His grip tightened but Moira continued relentlessly, digging her thumbs into the flesh and sending magic through veins and muscle and tissue. The _rush rush rush_ of her heart drowned out everything for a moment and the _pain_ of it and Moira's hands and her broken ribs and throbbing head...

She gasped when Thorin shifted his grip and began carding his fingers through her hair. He said nothing and the movement was stiff and a little rough but she didn't know why and couldn't care at this moment. _Too much too much toomuch_.

"Moira?"

_Vala!_

Her friend pushed back the tent flap and peered in. "What's going on? Are you alright?"

"We're fine, dear, just fixing her up."

"Hurts," Ferin whimpered.

Vala's eyes widened at seeing her friend awake. "Ferin! You're awake!"

The heat suddenly ceased but then Moira was applying something wet along the wound once more. Vala came in and sat at the end of the bed, patting Ferin's leg with a sympathetic grimace. Ferin bared her teeth angrily, her deep gasping breaths the only sound in the room for the next few minutes. _It_ _fucking hurts and whatever paste she's using isn't helping!_

When she finally regained her composure, Thorin released her gently to lie back on the cot, covering her swiftly without looking. She suspected he hadn't looked at her earlier either. Not that she minded of course, having a bit of dignity whilst injured was always a bonus but he wouldn't meet her eye and remained stiffly beside them for a few minutes. When no one said anything he stood and spoke. "I have duties to attend to but I will return as soon as I can."

Ferin wanted to say something, anything at all but there was too much to say and this was not the right time, so she nodded and watched him leave, the bright light of day outlining his form before the curtain of fabric fell to cover his absence.

After a few minutes of staring after him, Ferin finally felt normal enough to take in the tent. There were several cots, empty and neat on either side of her and many basins, powders and medicines lay scattered around the area on small tables or stools. It was bare but looked well used. Why was it empty? Surely there were others injured like her.

"It's been a while since we brought you here," Vala answered, having watched her friend survey the area.

Ferin turned to look at her larger friend where she sat sprawled on the wooden chair, chin resting in her hand and eyes surrounded by dark skin. She looked wan and exhausted. Cuts and bruises marred her features and arms but none seemed very serious.

"You look as bad as I feel," Ferin said, smiling a little in relief at seeing her friend alive if a little banged up.

"I feel as bad as you look." There was a brief evidence of humour in her eyes but it faded quickly. "We thought we'd lost you."

"Not the first time."

"Do not jest. It isn't funny."

Ferin looked away to Vala's worn boots and they shifted to plant firmly on the ground.

Vala rubbed a hand roughly over her face and sighed heavily. "You've been unconscious for eight days. We brought you back here as quickly as we could but we feared the blade had poisoned you so... we took it out."

"Not the brightest bunch," Moira offered, fixing her medicines with a roll of her eyes. Her long grey hair was tied in a tight bun but some wisps had escaped, making her look half mad.

"You bled out and Moira couldn't close the wound fast enough. If it wasn't for Gandalf's spell..."

Ferin flicked her gaze back to see Vala looking off into nothing, lost in thought. "I expected to die, Vala."

"_Don't_ – "

"It's true," she interrupted firmly. Her heart thumped heavily in her chest and she had to pause to gather herself against the pain before continuing. "You know I saw my death."

Moira scoffed, shaking her head and palming a healing stone. Approaching Ferin, she tugged down the sheets and rested the blue tinted, translucent rock over her heart. It was cool and thrummed with some sort of magic. It seeped into the wound and drew out some of the pain.

"You didn't foresee your death, you silly thing. You saw an injury."

Ferin blinked. "But I could not have survived such an injury. That is why – "

"You obviously have, haven't you?"

Vala looked at her incredulously. "You mean you never saw past being stabbed?"

"Well, no. I assumed I had died after being stabbed through the chest."

"Oh for Aule's sake!"

"Excuse me for feeling the pain of it through the visions and feeling exhausted and assuming I died you bloody great – "

Moira scowled. "This is exactly why I wanted you immobile and resting!"

Ferin growled before clenching her fists. She would not give Moira an excuse for putting the spell on her again.

After a few minutes of stony silence from Vala, Ferin sighed. "I'm sorry."

"So you should be."

"Vala!"

"No, Ferin. We've spent eight days thinking we were going to lose you! You would get better only to bleed again and – " She cut herself off and turned her head away.

Another few minutes and all that could be heard was Moira bustling about before she suddenly left without a word.

"I _am_ sorry," Ferin said again, closing her eyes.

"I know. So am I. He was very worried, you know?"

Ferin didn't pretend to not know who she was talking about. "Really?"

"Of course. Why do you think he wasn't?"

Ferin opened her eyes to the ceiling, watching it flutter in the breeze from outside. "Help me to sit up, would you? I don't want to talk to you lying on my back."

Vala did so, gently lifting her to sit against the soft pillows, sheet wrapped firmly under her arms. It took a few minutes to get her breath back and to ease the dizziness. She began to explain what had happened between her and Thorin before she'd left and Vala listened intently.

"He was so quiet and I didn't know what to do."

"So you left."

"Yes."

"You didn't see him try to chase after you, did you?"

_He what_? "He what?"

Vala smiled and nodded. "When he came to the Gate, I thought he looked different. And he was looking for you. He made to leave to go after you but we couldn't let him. Only Eru knew what would happen to him if he went on his own across to the others to look for you.

"I don't know what you said to change him but he actually went out of his way to seek guidance from Balin after you'd left. Balin hinted at the battle that you foresaw but not the details. We convinced him to stay to the path we needed and that was easy enough when Bilbo returned without the Arkenstone and Bard came to barter it.

"We turned him away like he was supposed to and the Battle began soon after. We joined in the fray when we were supposed to. Like you asked us to."

Ferin frowned. "But why did he not look at me earlier? Why is he suddenly distant?"

Vala sighed and shifted to stand. "I'm not entirely sure but sometimes I think of losing you and of what we went through these last few days and I can imagine him distancing himself to protect you."

"Protect me? From what?"

Vala cleared her throat and glanced at the entrance to make sure no one was there. "My impression of Thorin is that he becomes possessive and very much attached to the things he cares for while looking for the entire world as if he cares nothing for them at all. Dwalin has told me a few things about his friend and I believe Thorin is protecting himself as well as you. He protects himself from losing you and he protects you from his fierce possessiveness."

Ferin could only stare at her and laugh in disbelief. "I confess, I have not received that feeling from him at all. He is possessive of me? I don't – that doesn't – "

"Moira told me what the beads say."

That was a very abrupt change. Ferin felt lost and she couldn't quite grasp what Vala was saying. Protecting her? "Oh?"

"You know one says friendship."

"Yes." He was possessive of her? It just didn't make sense. He'd never given that impression. Had he?

"The other is his name."

"Hmm?"

Vala folded her arms. "Beorn is a fluffy bunny rabbit."

"That's nice."

"Ferin!"

"What? Sorry."

"Do you understand what that means?"

"No."

"It can mean many things according to Dwarves but Moira thinks he _intended_ it to mean many things, not just one. It could mean he offers you his protection or that he offers you a place with him or that he offers you himself, in any form."

Ferin shook her head and rubbed the sheet at her knees between worrying fingers. Her hands were getting into bad habits since fiddling with those clasps. "That doesn't make sense, Vala."

Vala smiled, not unkindly. "I'll leave you to think on it for a while. You should talk to him about all this because I think it has the potential to go very wrong if there are misunderstandings."

Vala moved forward and clasped her friend's good shoulder in a firm grasp. "I'm glad you are alright and we will celebrate when you are more able but for now, I want you to remember; I wasn't the one who stayed by you every day and night at _your_ request."

* * *

Two days passed by and Ferin felt like she was going mad. Moira had forced her to stay in the cot and although she was visited by many of the company and Gandalf and even a few Elves; healers to assess her progress while Moira busied herself with other dealings, Ferin wanted to get out of the boring tent. She wanted to be better and useful and to get out and do things but most of all she wanted to see Thorin and he was the one person who hadn't visited her.

She'd spent the two days mulling over what Vala had said in preparation for talking to him, often finding her hand wandering to the beads in her hair and now she lay in the silent tent and thought over it all again.

She thought back over everything since meeting him. He'd dismissed her as a dog straight away so that didn't bear thinking about really. She'd been an animal then and of very little value to his quest but he'd been tolerant of her. When she'd changed back, she rather thought that he'd been angry at the deception but he'd never outright said it until they'd reached Imladris.

He'd been furious and judgmental of her true self but after their fight, he'd tapered his mood to just gruff and unfriendly. He'd kept his distance and watched her often; his gaze either accusing or blank and unreadable and it hadn't been until they'd reached the Goblin Kingdom that he'd truly changed towards her. His gaze became more considering and curious but still he'd remained distant bar the small moment by the stream before they'd arrived at Beorn's. There she'd made a promise to him but afterwards, when they'd reached Mirkwood, distance had become physical. The visions had also become more prominent so thoughts of approaching a more friendly relationship had been dashed against the rocks.

When he'd been taken by the Elves, getting him back had been her only thought. But why? Had it been a mutual hatred of the Elven King that had made her go? What had made her venture into that place, a place she'd sworn never to set foot in again? Had she felt that keeping her promise so soon would help to ease their relationship or had she wanted him to see her as something more even then?

Or had she already given up her life for him then and there? She'd foreseen her death and his so perhaps she'd felt more strongly about it than she had originally thought. Had she been so deprived of another's contact and friendship that she'd given it so easily to one she'd barely known?

She wasn't sure but since their audience with the King, it was like he had become a different person. He'd readily jumped into her story of them being betrothed without question and he'd almost been playful when he'd followed her lead for intimacy in front of another. When they had escaped, the contact between them had only increased; there were no brooding looks or accusations or stilted conversation. It was like he'd let a part of himself go like she had done in the town. He'd held her hand and often guided her by the small of her back. He touched her often around the others and stayed close to her whenever he could; during meal times, when they went out walking or even just sitting by the fire.

Ferin thought of her responses to all of this and found that she'd been equally as demonstrative in her affection. She'd often initiated hand holding and gravitated towards him whenever they were in a crowd or even on their own. She'd brush his hand or braid his hair or touch her forehead against his and when they'd slept, they crowded each other. He'd curl around her or she'd press against him, finding natural grooves and spots to insinuate herself into his embrace and heat.

But then they'd arrived at Erebor and the touches stopped, the playful atmosphere disappeared and all that was left was a desperation; his for the stone and hers for just himself and the contact and bond they'd made. Now he was distant once more but she wondered at the reason why. Vala had said it was to protect her from him and to protect himself from her but was that the reason?

He may have changed his mind about her. He may have dismissed her friendship when she'd gone against him about his treasure and Bard but Vala had said he'd changed when she'd left. That he'd looked for her.

She sighed and ran a hand across her face, blocking the view of the ceiling. Why were these things so complicated?

Someone cleared their throat and Ferin nearly leapt off the bed in fright. Sitting up, the wave of dizziness nearly sent her back down but hot hands stopped her and a heavy weight rested beside her on the bed. In the back of her mind, she was thankful that Vala had brought her some clothing; the beige tunic and light linen trousers did not flatter her in size (they belonged to an Elf and Man) but they covered her.

"I am sorry. I did not mean to frighten you."

It was Thorin. Blinking away the spinning room, she squinted at him and her heart raced at his proximity. She hadn't seen him in what felt like a lifetime and to have him so close after thoughts of his distance and anger before the battle... Their foreheads almost touched and his breath ran across her lips and cheeks. He looked tired but the lost look he'd had not long ago in the chamber of treasure was gone. The sickness had passed. The relief she felt cause her forehead to fall to touch his and he stiffened but didn't move.

_Are you afraid_? she wondered. "I am fine. You made my heart race but I will calm."

His eyes darkened for a moment before he blinked, pulled back and looked away. That brief moment was enough to start a tingling at the base of her skull and spine; the feeling running up and down her skin to the tips of her fingers and toes at the thought of why they'd gone that way.

He removed his hands and leaned away. "How do you fare?"

"I fare well, considering."

He nodded and she tilted her head to watch him. He was paler and had several cuts on his hands and face but he was clean and his hair was braided normally, the addition of her clasps in one braid beside it. He wore a dark blue shirt with black breeches and his heavy boots and the gold chain he usually wore rested across his skin in the gap at the collar and Ferin blinked to stop her thoughts turning elsewhere. She could easily reach out and touch his face, his neck, his chest but he was so tense and she didn't want to make him distance himself further. Her fingers itched by her side.

There was an awkward silence where she waited for him to say more but he didn't. "Moira said that once the spells become stronger, by the next week, I should be able to be up and about to get fit again."

He nodded again and turned his head to the entrance of the tent. Why did this feel so complicated? How was she supposed to approach him?

Why was she being so awkward and tactful? She'd never been this tactful.

_No point in starting that now. I'm too old for delicate situations._

"Do you want me to leave?"

He turned his head rapidly and she almost winced at the possible damage he'd do to his neck. "What?"

"Do you want me to leave?" she asked more slowly.

"Leave?"

"When I feel up to it, I mean. You have your home back. You don't need me, really." What would he do with that?

He looked down to her hands but made no other move. "If that is what you wish."

_You've got to be joking_. "I don't wish it."

He looked up and watched her warily, frowning.

She sighed. "Look. I don't do well with subtle but that was an opportunity for you to say, 'I don't wish it either', or something along those lines."

"I..."

"If you want me to go, I'll go. If you want me to stay and remain friends, then I will do that also but if you want..." she trailed off, feeling her bravado waning. What if she was wrong? What if she was making a fool of herself?

He cleared his throat when she didn't continue. "You would wish to stay?"

"Of course I want to stay!" His eyebrows rose at her forceful tone and she cleared her throat in embarrassment. "Of course I want to stay."

There was another silence and Ferin nearly growled. Why was this so hard?

_Fuck it_. "I like you." He glanced back at her from his gaze toward the entrance again. _Say it now before he wants to escape you_. "I like you a lot. I really do but I don't know much about you or your home except what you've told me. I would like to stay, and I would like to get to know you better and I would like to be a friend to you..."

At the last bit he began to look at everything except her, seeming unsure what to say. So she continued for fear that he'd reject her before she got it all out. "But I would like more... if it's offered. Or acceptable. I mean, I don't think I'm very good at relationships, since I've not had many, but I would be willing to try and I'm not afraid of you or what you're like or – " _Stop talking you idiot! You're making assumptions now!_ "I mean – I just – I'm making a mess of this already to be honest and I'm not able to stop so I would appreciate you stepping in now and either telling me I'm wrong or right or just to shut up because – "

He raised a hand and clamped it over her mouth with a great amount of amusement. She scowled at him and pulled his hand away. "Not what I meant but thank you."

"You are welcome. I've never seen you like this."

"Yes, well..." she fidgeted uncomfortably, desperately willing this change in humour to last.

"It is very amusing."

"I think you're missing the point here and you're making me nervous."

He looked away again, humour all but vanished but his expression did not seem as bad as it had been when he'd come in.

"Would you be willing to..." she hesitated again and she was exasperated at his reluctance to say anything. And then inspiration hit her when she spotted her clasps in his hair. His voice from what seemed so long ago now echoed in her mind. "Do you accept my gifts?"

He froze before shifting his gaze to the side to look at her with a frown of confusion. She knew what he was thinking; did she mean what he thought she meant? The answer was yes.

"Do you?"

There was a long moment of bated breath and then he turned to her and brushed the tips of his fingers off hers. His eyes were dark and he took a deep breath before, "I do."

She sighed and smiled. Who need tact?

* * *

A week and a half later, Ferin had lost some of her high by Thorin's answer, frustrated at having to heal before she could be up and actually doing something useful. People visited her and it was wonderful but Moira wouldn't let her leave and she was getting bored and Thorin was a bastard for only coming in every now and again to check on her; she didn't mind that his visits were infrequent per say, it was just that since he'd accepted their... whatever the relationship was now... he'd been gradually opening himself up more and more but that meant touches and companionship and _touches_ and it made her heart race and her breath short so Moira often sent him away for fear she'd relapse.

Moira had slowly let her get up and wander around the tent but no further the last few days but _today_, Ferin itched with unsued energy, _today_ she would be allowed outside. Vala had come to help her since everyone else was busy rebuilding Erebor and Dale and the relationships between the two cities and now stood at the entrance to the tent. She'd brought Ferin's clothes earlier, freshly laundered and repaired and had left Ferin to dress but now she hovered by the entrance.

"So! Ready to go out into the world?" Vala said enthusiastically, clapping her hands and rubbing them together with a grin. Her friend was as eager as Ferin to get her out.

"Yes yes, come over here in case I fall."

Vala moved quickly to the beside, thrumming with energy and Ferin rolled her eyes. Inside she was equally as excited but it was already making her breathless. Taking a deep breath she pushed herself up off the bed and stretched carefully.

After a few minutes they made their way slowly to the entrance and stepped outside. The light was bright but after adjusting to it, the sight of Erebor in all her glory caught her attention. Tents were everywhere and the land was clean from bodies and battle and there the Mountain stood behind it all, fierce and unmoving and buzzing with activity around the entrance.

"Come on! We'll catch one of the carts that are going to the Gate and we'll go from there."

Ferin nodded, eagerly taking in the surrounding cool air into her newly repaired lungs. She followed Vala, nodding politely at several Men, Elves and Dwarves that worked around the area. There were woman and children there now; having travelled with the Elven King and his people once the Battle was over and they had created small stalls and temporary homes nearby while Dale and Erebor were being mended.

Before long, Ferin found herself bobbing along in a cart as the pony pulled a cartload of wood towards the Front Gate. Not having to walk was wonderful for she could enjoy the scenery of the hundreds of Men and Dwarves and Elves going about their duties. When they arrived at the Gate, the pony, urged by the driver, trotted inside and Ferin marvelled at the progress on the Gate already; Dwarves were hard at work measuring and hammering in new bolts for the new entrance. She'd not been able to appreciate the grandeur of the Mountain but the thrill at exploring it further when she fared better was enormous.

"This is our stop," Vala said a few minutes later, nodding to the driver. He pulled the cart to a stop and they disembarked. Pony, driver and cart veered off the left and continued down a side path on their own duties while Vala directed Ferin forward towards the centre of the same floor, down a long walkway. There, pointing like a dagger, sat a large stalactite of rock just over the throne and just beside the throne, standing tall and regal, was Thorin. They approached slowly, seeing him dealing with a Man and Elf but Ferin's legs were getting tired and her breath short. The walkway was flat but long and walking around a tent had not prepared her for this.

The rest of the company was present also, off the side and chattering away and Ferin looked at Vala. Why were they all gathered here?

Vala smiled. "They knew you were getting out today and wanted to greet you properly. We thought this would be the best place to begin since it's not as far as the Royal Common Room. We'll move there once you've rested and then we can get you settled into your room later."

Ferin collected that information and shoved it into a corner of her mind to think about later. Erebor was enormous and Thorin wanted her to stay but she was exhausted from the short trip here so exploring was not an option now.

"Ferin!" Fili greeted and he and his brother quickly approached, arms outstretched.

Vala stepped in front of her to warn them off but Ferin smiled and allowed them to hug her. They were gentle and the others followed suit in their own way. Dwalin nodded while Balin clasped her arm. Bofur lifted her a bit before setting her down and ruffling her hair. Bombur and Bifur grasped her shoulders and gently head butted her while Dori shook her hand and Nori clapped her on the back on her good side. Ori smiled shyly and waved while Oin and Gloin nodded like Dwalin. Bilbo smiled and gave her a hug, tighter then the Dwarves and she hugged him back just as fiercely, despite the twinge of pain.

"Hasn't been too bad so far," he whispered and she smiled.

"I'm glad. We'll have to talk later."

He nodded and Thorin approached. He tipped his head and smiled slightly in greeting and although he didn't make a show of greeting her other than that, he kept close to her when they made their way to the common room to enjoy a feast and celebration to themselves.

The walk that took them deeper into the Mountain, although direct, was still very long for Ferin and she had to pause often by the last stretch to catch her breath, rest her legs and calm her heart. Thorin stayed by her, urging the others ahead when they stopped in concern but Ferin had waved them off as well.

"I am fine, just out of breath. I'll catch up."

When she had caught her breath, they moved on again but this time Thorin slipped his hand into hers and pressed close for support. Ferin smiled and squeezed back in silent thanks.

The evening wore on and celebration was merry and delightful. The Common Room was large enough to accommodate them but still small enough to seem cosy and intimate. It was full of ornate chairs and tables with fancy design. It had been cleaned not long ago for this purpose and there were some interesting tapestries and ornaments that Ferin wished to investigate further but there was too much happening to do so. Songs were sung and food was eaten until it could be eaten no more and it all lapsed into a wonderful chatter about stories and tales and talks of home and plans yet ahead.

Ferin talked to Bilbo about his plans to return home in a few days time but he promised to visit again soon and she held him to that. When the evening became quieter, he found himself telling her of what had happened with the Arkenstone. She listened raptly even though her energy was waning. He told her of Thorin's reaction; he'd immediately looked furious and had grabbed Bilbo as if to threaten him, but then he'd just stopped suddenly before letting the Hobbit go. It wasn't until Bilbo had seen him turning the clasps over in his hand that he'd realised why and he thanked her profusely for the forethought of whatever she'd done.

When Bilbo went off to join Bofur and the others, Ferin suddenly found herself exhausted and ready to collapse. Leaning against a table for support she did not hear Thorin until he was there, leaning into her and pressing his forehead against hers. She smiled. For some reason she really liked this as his greeting. It was endearing and enticing and intimate all at the same time and she pressed into it gently, keeping her eyes closed to enjoy it.

"I can show you to your rooms," he rumbled.

She nodded, rousing herself to pull away. He took her hand and led her away, out of the room and just down the hall. At the end of it stood three doors, two facing each other across the width of the hall and one large, dark but ornate door at the end facing them.

"These are the Royal suite."

He led her to the first two doors. They were a lighter colour, each bearing a engraved plaque of silver. She could only read the one on the left for it had Thorin's name.

"That used to be my room and my father's was across here to the right. My grandfather, Thror, resided in the Kings rooms just further down."

"Do you stay in your rooms or did you move to the King's?"

"I moved. It was one of the first tasks we set out to do. We had to ensure some of the valuables and memorabilia were still intact. There is a lot of history in the King's rooms."

Leaning against him in the darkened corridor, she asked him, "So you moved your old things?"

"I did."

She felt very disappointed in that. Would he give her his old room with nothing of him in it?

His hand tightened its hold and he watched her trace the silver plaque with his name. Did she realise she was doing it? "You may choose any room you'd like."

Her tracing stopped and she let her hand fall to turn and look at him. The torches were low but there was enough light to see a faint red tinge to his cheeks but he kept her gaze. She said nothing but gently tugged him in the direction of the Kings room without hesitation. His tense posture relaxed and he nodded, following her lead.

The room was large but there was enough in it for it to look deceptively small upon first glance. It was carved beautifully from the mountain itself and small measures of gold dotted the high, domed ceiling, creating the illusion of stars in a night sky. To the right, a singular, large window twice as tall as her and three times as wide showed the city of Dale and to the farthest point, she would just make out the bare hint of the Iron Hills come morning.

Dark wardrobes took up space to the left of the doors and the rest of the wall beside them was covered with shelves upon shelves of books, maps and treasures that reached the ceiling. A small door just between a large set led to a very roomy bathroom, where a carved bath lay sunken in the centre. Again there were jewels and gold dotted in the walls and the ceiling, sparkling slightly with their own light and the reflected light from the few torches that had been lit by someone earlier.

Turning from the bathroom, Ferin found herself faced with a large four poster bed that practically dominated the back centre of the room. It was covered with thick curtains of a beautiful blue, the sheets and pillows to match and it could fit half the company easily with a bit of room to spare.

A firm pressure on her hand brought her thoughts back to Thorin and she laughed when she realised she'd never let go of his hand. She'd dragged him about the room in her exploration.

"I'm sorry!"

He smiled a bit. "You find it to your liking?"

"I do. I can't wait to try the bed, it looks like I'd sink and get lost."

His smile turned more intent and his eyes darkened. "I will not let you."

Her body ached from the long day and she was exhausted but the thrill that ran through her at his promise... She bit her lip and took a deep breath.

"That is unfair," she said, smiling and pulling away to go towards the bed. "I do not have the energy to even respond properly to that."

He followed but eased the heat in his gaze. "We will rest and there is a lot to do in the coming months. We will go slowly, if you wish."

Smiling, Ferin sat, sighing at the release of weight on her legs. "I think slowly is the best option right now." He hummed and knelt by her feet. She huffed a laugh when he traced his hands over the buckles of her boots. "What are you doing?"

"Helping you undress."

"Well," she said with a slight disbelief and breathlessness to her tone. "Never thought I'd have a King kneeling before me to remove my boots."

"It will not be the only time."

She closed her eyes against his heavy timbre and promise in his voice, leaning back onto her hands. "That doesn't help me want to go slowly at all," she laughed but she couldn't see herself forcing him up. The give in the mattress promised a luxurious comfort but his hands, even through the leather were hot and distracting. He released the buckles at her knee and gently pulled off one boot and then the other and she gasped when he lightly applied pressure around her ankle and calf. "Oh that feels good."

He hummed again and moved his hands higher, kneading and pressing. Her breath was short and sharp and her heart raced and oh _sogoodsogoodsogood_. She knew he wouldn't go too far for she hadn't the energy or the appreciation for his skill or attention. She wasn't supposed to overdo it for fear of the spells still breaking down before she healed completely, but the pressure was _fantastic_ and the release of tension from her calves and thighs. It just _felt. so. good._

His hands moved up and onto her waist where he slipped them under her shirt. He lifted it up and off until she was left in her breeches and breast bindings and replaced another, softer shirt over her instead before undoing her bindings underneath. He was careful not to touch her wounds or breasts, only her back and waist. He unlaced her breeches and urged her back onto the bed. Boneless and fighting sleep, Ferin did as he asked, just about managing to lift her hips for him to remove them.

When they were off and the shirt was pulled down to cover her smallclothes, he disappeared for a few moments. Ferin slipped into a light doze and only woke enough to feel him lift her to the centre of the bed where he joined her, now undressed. They sank into the bed and he covered them with the softest sheets she'd ever felt before curling himself around her.

The last thought before sleep took her was that a girl could get used to this.


	18. Slow and Steady Wins the Race

**A/N: Another one! Hope it doesn't seem to rushed and that the intimacy is, well, intimate I suppose.**

**Thank you to my followers and reviewers:**

**Loki'sdreamer: Glad you enjoyed it and sometimes when I start writing, I find it hard to stop!**

**DarknessMakesMeSmile: You're most welcome but I'm concerned... I caused a nosebleed? I'm very sorry!**

**Uno Mega: Yes, they have themselves to themselves now but after so long without a companion and nothing hanging over them now, I wonder how they'll cope with just each other...**

**UKReader: Glad you enjoyed the chapter!**

**Herrera . el ana 2: I would be the same but I felt bad for stabbing her in the plot so needed to give her time to heal! Sorry Ferin!**

**Angeltoots: No worries at all! As long as you are enjoying it, I don't mind you being too busy to comment!**

**MugglebornPrincesa: I'm glad I could give you a happy moment and I hope to give you more as we go.**

**LilithLieLoveHeart: Don't tempt me to leave more cliffhangers but I seem to do it anyway. Can't be helped!**

**Remus Hroozley: Hope you enjoy this one. Not as in depth with some of the things you're hoping for but I'll be getting to those, don't worry! I hope you do see Erebor through my eyes and I can only hope to do it justice because the brief glimpse of its magnificence in PJ's film is mindblowing!**

**LilyLewisFlame: I'm glad you are enjoying it my dear, hope you continue to do so!**

**Samolfran: I feel your happiness and it makes me happy that you're happy!**

**Kaaayyytteee: I have updated as soon as I could! Hope you enjoy!**

**Luna153: Never been called a genius for my writing before so thank you!**

**Westwingnut221: I won't feel bad! And I don't! I think you'll have Ferin to contend with there if you want to curl into his bed with him in it but give it a try! I know I would! I'm so glad you're enjoying the characterisation too and I can only hope you keep enjoying it.**

**On to the next adventure!**

**Blue xx**

* * *

A knock on the door woke her. Blinking at the morning light invading the room, she found herself on her back looking at the speckled ceiling. The gold and minerals sparkled in different patterns and Ferin sighed at the interesting sight. Stretching was difficult with Thorin pressed against her side, she thought with amusement; his head rested in the crook of her neck and his legs tangled with hers so she could only manage an arm and a brief arch of her back but it was satisfying enough.

A feminine voice called from the other side of the door. "Are you awake, Sire?"

Thorin mumbled something and buried deeper into her side, nose brushing against her neck. He shied away from the sunlight and voice, using her as a shield. She chuckled.

"What is so funny?" he rumbled.

"You."

The door opened slightly. "Sire?"

Thorin didn't answer and Ferin wondered why. He was awake now and had surely heard her.

The woman opened the door further, despite the fact she hadn't been invited in, but kept her eyes averted. She wore her long red hair down with a ringlet of flowers atop her crown and wore a very fetching dress of deep purple. She looked no more than thirty and was definitely human. The fabric of the dress flattered her in all the right places, Ferin noted and she suspected the woman knew this for she sashayed into the room with a confidence one would have if they did this morning ritual every day. In her hand she carried a basket of fruit and bread, just barely covered by a chequered cloth.

"Good morning, Sire," she said warmly, a small smile on her face as she moved easily to a table off to the side of the room. Ferin hadn't noticed that last night. It was small enough for two and held comfortable chairs that were at odds with the rest of the furniture in the room; plain and cushioned and not for fashion or royalty at all. It was a breakfast table.

Ferin rested her free hand behind her head and watched the woman with curiosity. The other hand absently rubbed circles in the skin of Thorin's back, fingers lazy and unfocused. The woman moved with a feminine grace that Ferin had never been able to learn and she was deliberate in every action she preformed. The table was adjusted more towards the window, the plate was set and the bread and fruit set out along with a goblet of water and each turn of her body provided the best views of her figure should the King look her way.

The woman still hadn't looked up, instead walking over to the other side of the room to the wardrobe where she sorted and picked out clothing for Thorin to wear. Ferin's eyebrow rose and she glanced down at Thorin to find him watching her and not the woman.

"Can't dress yourself now?" she whispered, biting the inside of her cheek to stop her smile. She shook her head in mock dismay. "King for less than a month and pampered already."

He gave her a long-suffering look before glancing at the woman who had started to hum in her duties. "She has become my... servant. Of sorts," he murmured back, grimacing. "The Men were eager to help us rebuild Erebor and she was very quick to offer her services to me as King's maid and servant. I could hardly refuse at the time and I think she knew she overwhelmed me with her personality and insistence. Not for the reasons she thought but she made me uncomfortable."

Ferin wrinkled her nose in sympathy. She remembered pushy woman in bars and pubs. Those who had money were petted and fluttered at and smiled at with breathy voices until they'd been confused enough or charmed enough to be won over.

"I thought she had a problem with her eye, she winked at me so much." Ferin cupped her hand to her mouth to stop the snort of amusement. "I was also with you in the tent so having a maid was not a priority but she brought food and fresh clothes..."

She picked up his meaning that it meant he didn't have to leave her side and Ferin stroked her hand down his back in thanks.

The woman, Hilda Thorin had murmured, turned to face Thorin and her features froze at seeing Ferin in his bed and him at her side. The split second between Hilda's awkward first look and the subsequent pleasantries that followed was filled with an intense dislike and jealousy.

_Lovely_, Ferin thought. She hadn't been here a day and she'd already been seen as a rival.

"Good morning, my King," she smiled warmly at Thorin. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you had... company." She made 'company' sound like 'prostitute'. For some reason, Ferin found this hilarious but she turned her smile of amusement into a polite one and kept her silence.

Thorin sat up and arranged the sheet carefully around himself. Ferin stayed on her back but watched carefully. She didn't miss the heated look from Hilda at Thorin's chest before he leaned forward. Unfortunately it only exposed his back and a hint of his buttocks to an appreciative Ferin.

He was talking to Hilda about something to do with stoking the fire (another thing she hadn't noticed just by the table and built into the wall) and thanking her for breakfast but Ferin wasn't really paying attention. The muscles of his back bunched and rippled with his uncomfortable movements in Hilda's presence but Ferin could only feel a heat at the thought of his strength. In the morning light she could also pick out some scars she'd never seen. There was a faint one on his right shoulder from the Warg bite she'd treated before and several here and there along his shoulder blades and lower back from the Battle or other skirmishes he'd been in. Her fingers itched to trace one at the base of his spine but she was still aware of Hilda in the room.

"Would you like breakfast?" Thorin asked her, looking over his shoulder. Ferin quickly looked away from his back but he'd caught her and had a knowing look in his eyes.

Ferin smiled and tried to look innocent. "Breakfast would be lovely."

He nodded and Hilda approached with his clothing, laying it neatly on the bed. Hilda blushed and turned away to dust a book shelf that didn't need dusting. She wasn't going to leave the room? That was odd. Ferin turned to ask Thorin why but the breath left her when she caught him standing from the bed, his toned legs and buttocks disappearing into his breeches when he pulled them up quickly.

_Completely unfair that I missed more than that._

Hilda gasped from across the room and Thorin chuckled.

Ferin felt heat rise to her cheeks. "I said that out loud, didn't I?"

"Very much so." He donned his shirt and belt without looking at either of them and moved off into the bathroom barefoot. Ferin hid her head in her knees for a few moments before a thought occurred to her. She'd never seen him dress before but apparently he didn't wear smallclothes.

Two things she'd learned about him already; he didn't wear smallclothes and he seemed to dislike having people serve him. She wondered why he didn't like wearing smallclothes. Maybe they were uncomfortable. Or he liked the feel of leather against his skin or –

_Stop, _she thought. _This is not going to help you at all and the woman is still in the room._ Shaking her head, Ferin turned and reached over for her breeches Thorin had folded on a chair by the bed before getting out of bed and donning them.

Hilda cleared her throat and Ferin adjusted her breast bindings under the shirt Thorin had given her to sleep in. When she looked over to Hilda, she could see a definite height difference between them. Hilda was at least a head and a half taller than her which made her only a head taller than Thorin. She seemed to think this was an advantage for she approached her and stood tall and confident.

"I don't know who you are," she murmured carefully, watching for Thorin's return. "But I'll have you know that you're in the presence of a fine King who fought hard to win back his home."

"I am aware," Ferin said carefully, curious as to the sudden hostility from the woman. Surely she couldn't cause this much of an intense reaction.

"You seem to have a blatant disregard for propriety in his presence. I consider myself loyal to him and would seek the same from those who are to serve him, even those who find themselves in his bed. Whatever he owes you, you will see it paid and you may leave. He has duties to attend to and you will only be in the way."

Ferin took that all in for a moment, confused at the realisation that this woman thought she was a prostitute. Did she give off that air? Was it the scars? If this woman had seen her in the tent, surely she knew she wasn't a concubine. Or did prostitutes fight in battles now?

Ferin wasn't sure how to respond. She wasn't angry per say, just... more baffled and amused, really. The woman puffed up her chest and nodded firmly as if what she'd said was the end of it.

Thorin entered, looking clean and refreshed. He strode over to them where his hand fell to the small of Ferin's back. He deliberately nudged her in the direction of the table, thanking Hilda and dismissing her.

"But, Sire, I have not brought enough for two and there is dusting to be done."

Thorin frowned at her. "We will share and you've dusted thoroughly. You are dismissed for the day and you are not to enter these rooms again uninvited, or while Ferin is here unless she has need of you."

Hilda opened her mouth to protest but paused upon hearing Ferin's name. Thorin hadn't mentioned it until now and neither had Ferin. Ferin watched her process it; she'd heard the rumours flying all over Dale and Erebor of her hand in saving the King and his kin and this woman had obviously not known it had been her. Ferin had been surprised to note that her scar was not mentioned much to identify her in the rumours so Hilda had not known who she was.

"F – Ferin?"

"Yes," Thorin said, scowling with impatience. "Ferin Twinblade. You are _dismissed_."

Hilda stuttered and blinked, glancing at Ferin with alarm before she fled the room. Thorin frowned after her. "What was that about? Did she say something?"

Ferin raised her eyebrows and feigned surprise. "I think she just mistook me for someone else. Breakfast? I'm starving."

He looked unconvinced but followed her lead. They ate in quiet companionship for a while before they began a small talk when they'd finished. The fruit had been fresh and the bread excellent with the cold ham they'd found buried under some grapes.

"What do you plan to do for the day?" he asked, taking a sip of water.

Ferin wandered back from the bedside where she'd picked up the clasps for his hair. "Moira told me to rest as much as possible and to build myself up slowly, so I plan to stay here and explore your room, if that's acceptable."

He turned in his chair and opened his legs to allow her into his personal space. Hands resting on her waist, he watched her face when she began the braids. "You may do as you please. My home is open to you."

She smiled softly, internally reeling at the implications. "Thank you. I believe Dwalin will visit as well. He hasn't forgotten about that tattoo."

With both of his normal braids complete, she began the one that would hold her own clasps. When she finished he tugged her to sit sideways in his lap. "You will need your hair braided if he is to do that." He ran his fingers through her loose hair where her braid normally sat. Vala had taken them out a few days before but she hadn't been available to do it for her since and short hair – her _own_ hair really – was not Ferin's forte.

Thorin produced the beads from a pocket she'd not known he'd had and began to gently wind the hair together. Ferin sat still and tried not to fidget at his attention. His hands were swift and sure and before long, the beads were threaded through and he was finished. Wrapping his arms around her waist he rested his forehead to her temple and sighed. "If I did not have duties to attend to today, I would join you. I may not see you until this evening."

Ferin smiled and rested her hands on his. "I'll be here."

He nodded and after a few minutes he roused himself enough to put on his boots and a crown he didn't seem fond of. His grandfathers had been lost to Azog when he'd rendered the Kings head from his body so a temporary crown they'd found in the treasure chamber had taken a place upon his head. It was old and contained several dents that would go unnoticed unless you were in his personal space and the ruby within did not do his eyes or features justice.

Sighing at his discomfort, she rose and met him at the door. He touched his forehead to hers briefly before he left for the day.

* * *

To say that the books in his chambers were magnificent was an understatement. They were filled to the margins with scribbling notes and illustrations of all sorts. Most of them were written in Khuzdúl but some she could read for they were in Westron or a mixture of Elvish and, surprisingly, Celvannae. Perhaps Thranduil had contributed to some of this? It would explain some of the Celvannae since he would have been only younger during the time of her mother's people. She wondered if Thorin or Ori would teach her how to read Khuzdúl. Speaking stilted conversation was one thing but reading the beautiful ruins was something else altogether.

Some of the books were enormous and covered in notations and broad, looping illustrations and others were so high up she had to climb the ladder set into the corner to reach them.

Among the books in spaces and on some shelves of their own were varying treasures; from jewels to cups to ornate boxes and instruments, each one was more specific for a purpose than anything to look at for its pretty nature. It seemed Thror enjoyed keeping the aesthetic valuables in the chamber but the practical ones in his room. There were some she'd never seen before; their shapes odd and purpose unknowable but there were also spyglasses and small tools for chipping at rocks or marking places on maps.

On one shelf, far into the corner by the door, Ferin had found a small chest of dark wood with silver hinges and a large lock. Testing it, she found the chest opened easily and inside there were a number of things that made her close the box immediately. These were Thorin's things. His personal things of clothing and toys and knick knacks and she found herself reluctant to go through them. He'd said his home was open to him but this was something else entirely.

To distract herself from it, she wandered over to a shelf full of maps with compasses and spyglasses and there she lost herself.

By mid afternoon, Dwalin found her sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounded by scrolls upon scrolls of maps and drawings. By her hip sat a scroll of paper weighted down at the edges by a jewelled box and round spyglass and just to the side sat a lone inkpot and pen, the ink nearly empty. The smaller scroll was filled with notes and drawings of her own as well as a small corner of Dwarven ruins that denoted the directions of North, South, East and West and anything else she suspected was important.

"You've been busy," he said, smirking at her dishevelled state and the state of the floor. Carefully stepping around the bits and pieces, he made it to her side when she looked up at him.

Ferin smiled up at the larger Dwarf, noting he had a bag over one shoulder. She was clueless to the ink on her hands and chin and the state of her hair.

"Hello, Dwalin! Come to give me my tattoo?"

"Aye. Find something of interest did we?"

Ferin nodded enthusiastically and began to talk while Dwalin cleared a spot beside her. "These maps are incredible. I'll have to get Thorin or Ori to teach me how to read them. There are so many passages and short cuts and rooms and walkways! The sheer amount of stairways and side passageways to the buildings and guest quarters and – "

Dwalin chuckled, moving off to grab the breakfast table to set it in the spot he'd cleared. They were just off to the centre of the room and he'd picked a spot with the best light to see by.

"A lot of those passages have either been destroyed or partially buried."

"Oh, I'm sure," she agreed, standing at his urging and taking a seat at the table. He placed a pillow on the surface and began to empty the bag. "I may not be able to do much physically now but I would love to help to arrange to clear them if possible."

"Oh?" He set up pots of ink and a candle to sterilise the needles he would use.

"This city is huge, Dwalin," she said as if he couldn't possibly know, glancing back at the maps with fascination. "I've learned so much already by just _looking_ at them. Could you imagine what I'd learn from this and the books if I could read them? Have they set up a party to clear the walkways and passages yet?"

He took off his gauntlets and gloves before turning towards the bathroom to wash his hands. "I don't think so yet, lass," he called out, the sound of running water hitting the stone basin following his voice. "They may have tried but there are so few of us and our kin from the Blue Mountains won't arrive here for several more weeks yet."

He came out drying his hands and sat beside her. "The Men and Elves are helpful yes, but they wish to rebuild Dale too and they get lost easily in our tunnels and their lungs and stature doesn't hold up to the lifting involved. There's only so much space for carts and ponies after all. Now, head down."

Ferin did as he asked without thinking, the pillow soft and welcoming and Dwalin lit the candle to burn the end of the needle. She rested her hands over her knees beneath the table and fidgeted with her fingers. After a few moments of thinking about what she could do to help, Ferin finally realised what Dwalin was doing. "Um, Dwalin?"

"Aye?"

"What exactly are you going to do?"

"Have you ever gotten a tattoo?"

"No, but I've seen them being done."

"Good. I'm going to cover that scar of yours."

Ferin took a breath at the implications. He was going to try and erase her mistake, in a way. "What are you going to cover it with?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course," she said immediately and he seemed taken aback at how quickly she responded.

He cleared his throat and allowed the needle to cool. "Then it'll be a surprise."

"Alright."

He set to work and it hurt but he gave her frequent breaks. He worked from above her eyebrow to the angle of her jaw and they kept a silent companionship as he worked. It took two hours but when he finished, he applied a paste to protect it from infection.

"Take care not to wash it off for a few days and when you do apply more if you need it."

She lifted her head and worked out the creak in her neck before she nodded. He gathered his things and left to meet Vala for dinner and Ferin went back to her maps, resolutely trying to ignore the pain.

Lighting the torches when it grew dark, Ferin continued her appraisal of the maps, writing her notes carefully for different sections. The largest of the maps was the height of her in width _and_ length and from the centre where the throne was marked, the city looked like spokes of a wheel of a cart. Each level opened out like the legs of a spider and connected to another part of the Mountain by tunnels and walkways, each measured and exact. It was phenomenal and she found herself referring to the smaller maps for they were broken into the separate sections of the city. Every detail was recorded and every angle measured and she found herself squinting often at the smallest of details.

She hadn't heard Thorin come in but he was suddenly sitting beside her already changed into soft linen trousers and shirt and carrying a tray of food that he set down in a space between some scrolls.

He leaned over and studied what she'd been looking at. Her stomach rumbled at the thought and smell of food and Ferin eagerly tore into a slice of bread with ham while he began to point out different sections and notes, telling her what each one meant. They didn't talk about his day or hers and he didn't mention her tattoo for it was covered in the odd blue-ish paste; they simply sat by the light of torch and fire, eating dinner while pouring over the maps and scrolls.

* * *

Water dripped down her face while she stared into the mirror above the basin. The ink was a navy colour and began just over her eyebrow in an elaborate pattern down to finish at her jaw. He'd copied some of the swirls on Thorin's clasps that she'd created and blended them into a hard, but beautiful Dwarvish pattern that circled Dwarvish ruins at the centre. She didn't recognise or understand any of it but it covered the terrible traitor's scar she'd spent over sixty years with.

Thorin appeared behind her, hand resting on the small of her back. "He has inscribed the protection of our company and the Durin line here." He pointed to the topmost area over her eyebrow and temple. "The rest is your namesake, 'Twinblade' or as close to it in Khuzdúl, and your skill as a warrior. All who see it in our Race will know who you are."

Ferin closed her eyes. They'd know her by her worth as a warrior and as a friend to the Durin line and his company. She would no longer be the traitor.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Ferin reached back and grasped his wrist. "Thank you."

He nodded and moved away. "Are you up for the task you've set yourself?"

Ferin thought back on the plans she'd made concerning the collapsed tunnels the last few days. Thorin had pointed out a few he knew and had agreed with her idea to set up a party to begin clearing them. They would soon have many more people to cater for and a lot of the chambers had vanished under Smaug's wrath through the many levels. Today would be her first day out and she was eager to get moving to see what she could do to help.

"I am. Have you told Merza to meet us?" Merza was a large Dwarf from the Iron Hills who commanded attention wherever he went. He'd seemed eager to help and his presence would aid Ferin greatly in arranging the Dwarves, and whoever else wanted to help, to do the tasks required.

"I have. He will meet us at the entrance to the next level."

Ferin nodded and dressed appropriately. A tough set of leather breeches were made for her as well as a tougher fabric for her shirt. Her worn boots and belt would always accompany her, especially down in the soot encased tunnels where luck would be needed. Soon she was ready to face the Dwarves, Men and Elves that would make up her party, scrolls of notes and smaller maps tucked away in a satchel strapped across one shoulder.

They moved together through the corridor away from the Royal suite and turned right away from the Common Room. The hallway they followed veered away from the route to the Throne and ventured downwards by a gentle slope were they made their way down a set of steps to the next level. Ferin ran her hand along the smooth walls every now and again, marvelling at the structure of the inner and outer walkways that led to each level; the inner ones rose three heads higher than her but the breath of each one differed greatly. Some only held enough space for two Dwarves to pass by without touching but others were larger to accommodate movement of carts and goods from outside as well as inside. The outer ones were ornate and often pressed close to the side of the Mountain, following lines of buildings and homes to those who enjoyed living near the edge.

Fifteen minutes later they came out onto a main central walkway that continued across to the other side, a level below the Throne. Above them, the large stalactite loomed and the wide crossways, stairs and balconies cast great shadows around them. The once splendid buildings and carvings of stone were now dulled and lacklustre but with time, it would be magnificent once more.

There ahead of them, Ferin saw a gathering of three Elves, twelve Men and nine Dwarves. A small group but it was a start. They watched them approach and bowed respectively when Thorin reached them, Ferin just behind.

"My King," Merza greeted, bowing low and rising to tip his head to Ferin. He was a wide Dwarf with a coal black beard and hair to match it. His bulbous nose dominated his face and almost hid his beady brown eyes. She smiled and returned his gesture.

"You all know why you are gathered here?" Thorin said, looking at each one that they nodded. Those who didn't, he gave a brief run through of what they would be doing. "You will be clearing the tunnels and my companion, Mistress Twinblade is to guide you. It will be hard work but I am grateful to your willing aid in this."

He seemed satisfied when they had nothing to say and turned to her. "I will see you this evening. Take care and good luck."

She smiled and nodded and forced herself not to watch him leave. Adjusting the strap where it pressed a little too much on the injury at her shoulder, Ferin stepped forward.

"Do any of you have a problem with my guidance?"

The Men looked uncomfortable but the Elves shifted to stand taller at her firm tone. "No, my Lady," one said, his voice strong and respectful. The Dwarves nodded in agreement, two of them doing so only when Merza eyed them warningly.

"Good. Shall we? By the maps, I think it's best to start with the lower tunnels and work our way up. It will seem less tiresome in the coming weeks if our efforts are less strenuous with the lighter damage up here."

They nodded and followed her to a passageway that would lead them to a section of the Mountain that held a pulley system. It was old but had been one of the first things repaired to account for rapid transport up and down the Mountain for the city's repair. When they arrived ten minutes later to the nearest one, it was to find several Dwarves setting it up for their trip. The conveyer area was a mixture of shining metal and stone barriers and walkways where a large, rectangular metal contraption sat at the end, tied to the Mountainside by thick chains and pegs.

They boarded the precarious lift in groups of four at a time and the Dwarf operating the levers released them to swing out and down the side of the Mountain much like the little Goblin scribe had done so long ago, Ferin thought. The levels passed in a slight blur before they slowed at the lowest level Smaug had dared to venture, just beneath the chamber of gold.

When the entire group had made their trip down, Ferin thought of the map she'd memorised for this level and turned to walk away from the route to the chamber, down into the darker hallways of the miners quarters. Here there were several collapsed tunnels that blocked off the temporary quarters where the miners would rest between long shifts and here was the first task. Carts and wheelbarrows had been set up and a walkway cleared that led to an outer exit to the Mountain where they would pile the rock until it could be dealt with later.

Ferin began directing the Elves to move the carts as necessary, their strength and speed aiding them in running up the walkway to empty them before returning. The Men were lined up with a Dwarf between every three or so and Merza and a Dwarf companion called Derk began the task of shifting the heavier rock that blocked the entrance to the furthest set of quarters. They each passed along the heaviest rocks and debris along the line for the Elves to dispose of and although the work was hard, a rhythm was established and progress was made.

Ferin poured over the maps while they worked and began to mark other tunnels that needed repair and clearing, the light of her lantern warm and comforting down in the darker area.

When they breaked for a rest and a short meal, Ferin joined in when they began again. It was the only way that she'd build her strength in these coming weeks and despite her frequent breaks, progress picked up.

Within a week, the lower tunnels of the miner's quarters were cleared and more people had joined the task so progress picked up quite rapidly. Ferin found her strength building day by day as she went and, although she often collapsed into bed after a bath, she was happy to have a renewed purpose.

In that week, she had joined the others to see Bilbo off to his Shire, making him promise to visit soon but that would be the last time in the weeks to come that Ferin would have the time or energy to give to the others.

Both Ferin and Thorin did not see each other often; he was busy with the politics and running of Erebor and she was busy organising clearance and repair and when they did finally see each other, they were usually both so exhausted they merely collapsed into bed and slept. Several weeks after she'd started her project, they had managed to find time to have the evening meal together where she tried to learn more about him and he tried to teach her how to read Khuzdúl but it was few and far between.

It was two months later when Merza said he'd be happy to continue the task of directing the clearance of the tunnels and Ferin was secretly pleased and grateful to the Dwarf. The more people that got involved, the less Ferin felt in charge. A small group was fine but the hundred and ten and more... it was best left to someone who could handle it. They'd made good progress so far though and when Dwarves from the Blue Mountains began to arrive and more hands were available, Merza easily took charge to direct the reparation as well.

Vala had come to visit her one of the days on the higher levels where Ferin had been helping a group clear some of the less used paths. She'd lost track of time but her fitness was improving greatly and she felt stronger every day.

"Hello stranger!"

Ferin turned and dropped a large rock into a cart beside her at the entrance. "Vala!" She embraced her friend without thinking. Soot, dirt and sweat mingled together did not make Ferin pleasant to embrace. "Oh I'm sorry, Vala. I've destroyed your clothes."

"Don't be silly! I was like you the other day. I joined in soon after you began weeks ago but haven't had the time to talk to you since."

"I am sorry I haven't talked to you much."

Vala waved dismissivly and dusted herself off. The soot clouded around her before settling at her feet. The furs were more elaborate than Ferin remembered her friend ever wearing and the deep red of them suited her well. Her friend looked happy. "Are you due for a break? We could have a chat."

"Of course." Ferin turned and let a Dwarf named Jesin know she'd come back in a while. He smiled and waved her off, telling her she'd worked too hard already.

They began to walk and Vala told Ferin everything she had been up to. She'd helped Thorin with dealings with the Men and Elves, having known her own talent for dealing with the public compared to Thorin and she'd been helping to support Ferin in her tasks of fixing Erebor.

Ferin told her of her own doings and Vala expressed delight at her fitness returning to her.

They strolled casually, greeting passing folk and making their way upwards to the topmost level towards the Throne. "I've been living with Dwalin," she confessed with a grin. "He's a brute sometimes in the mornings but I think I love that Dwarf and I think he loves me back."

Ferin laughed. "I'm glad, my friend. You deserve it!"

"So how have you been getting along with Thorin?"

Ferin smiled. Subtle didn't work with her but she wasn't giving in so easily. "We have not seen each other much but overall, fine."

Vala cleared her throat and raised her eyebrows. "Just fine? I thought he'd be better than _fine_."

Ferin rolled her eyes and shook her head. "It's not like that you vulgar – "

"Alright!" Vala laughed, nudging her friend with an elbow. "Why though? I thought you'd be all over each other by now."

"We are taking it slow."

"Ah. I did that with Dwalin at the beginning but when we reached Lake-town... Well, I was alone in those cells for a long time and priorities can change."

Ferin frowned, guilt gnawing at her stomach. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, Vala."

Vala looked at her incredulously. "I'm a grown woman, Ferin. I can take care of myself. I'm sorry I wasn't there for _you_."

Ferin didn't want to talk about that time right now. She sighed. "Let's settle on being sorry for each other, hmm?"

Vala laughed and clapped her on the back. "Still though, I think you should get moving on that Dwarf of yours. I've seen the women look at him and I wonder why you haven't claimed him completely."

"Vala!"

"What? He's handsome and brooding and the way he looks at you sometimes... It makes me think of Dwalin and I've often had to go so I could fu – "

"_Vala!_"

They'd arrived at the Throne and Ferin spotted Dwalin to one side. The Dwarf smiled deviously at her friend, seeming to know what they were talking about and Vala grinned back before joining him.

"Ferin Twinblade, look at the state of you!"

Ferin, startled at the scolding voice, spun to face the Throne proper and found a scowling Moira beside a curious Thorin and an amused female Dwarf who looked like Thor –

Oh.

Shite.

Had meeting Thorin's sister been today?

_Damn it, Vala! A warning would have been nice!_

Ferin cleared her throat and stepped forward. "You must be Dis. Uh, sorry about - " she gestured to herself covered in soot and filth. Fili and Kili sniggered behind their mother and Ferin tried her best to not look at Thorin. She hoped he wasn't annoyed that she'd forgotten.

The woman stepped forward to meet her and Ferin could not help but admire her features. She'd often thought Dwarvish women looked like the men - and most did - but the line of Durin had obviously been kinder to Thorin and his sister for she sported very distinguishing features that set her apart from the norm. She had a long nose like Thorin and Fili but a heavier brow and where Dwarvish women had beards to rival the men's, Dis seemed to have only a light dusting of dark whiskers on her upper lip and at the angle of her jaw. Her stature was, surprisingly, shorter than Ferin but she was a wall of muscle with thick, dark hair in a style similar to her brothers. She also wore travelling robes of worn navy and heavy, metal clad boots and gauntlets.

Ferin felt suddenly intimidated.

"So you must be Ferin."

They eyed each other for a moment and Ferin could feel the nerves biting at her heart and stomach. But then suddenly Dis stepped into her personal space to wrap her thick trunks of muscle for arms around her in a hug. Ferin gasped at the sheer strength of it but she was released quickly only to see stars when Dis head-butted her. A cloud of soot burst like a cloud from her hair and Dis steadied her with a laugh.

"I like her already, brother!"

Ferin tried to regain her senses as they moved down to the Common Room where they had originally intended to meet. The evening meal was a celebration of Dis' return as well as the homecoming of many of the Dwarves still arriving from the Blue Mountains and the feast was larger than the one in Bilbo's house had been.

Ferin, not wishing to be a nuisance to the family's reunion, kept close to Vala off to one side of the room while they watched and enjoyed the merriment.

Dis' boys crowded her for the night and she affectionately hugged them and piled food onto their plates frequently and Ferin could only watch the motherly care. It was refreshing and new and fascinating, especially considering the boys were grown now. Young yes, but they were no longer babes but gravitating towards a mother was an instinctive feeling and Ferin could only envy them the opportunity. Outside, Dis appeared a very formidable warrior, a true part of the strong lineage of Durin but in the Common Room she was softer and joked often, teasing Thorin and some of the others with rude gestures and tales from the Blue Mountains.

Thorin himself stayed by his sister's side and Ferin held no ill will toward him. This was his family and he looked content with the merriment of his company and his kin. He said little but watched them all carefully and Ferin felt privileged that he'd invited her into this small niche he was comfortable in.

After the meal, Ferin was surprise to find Dis wanting to walk her back to her brother's room so they could talk briefly. Thorin had raised a curious eyebrow but did not follow. Ferin rubbed her hand against her thigh to try and rid herself of her nerves while they walked down the corridor. She didn't know how to measure herself against Dis and worried that she would say or do the wrong thing.

Dis seemed to think otherwise.

"My sons and brother seem very fond of you," she began, trailing a hand along the wall in thought and Ferin was secretly glad she was not the only one who did it. "I'm glad. They've been telling me all sorts of adventures and tales about you since I arrived this morning."

"They are good boys."

"They are indeed. I would like to get to know you better, if I may."

"I – " She hadn't expected that. "Um, of course."

"Good." They reached the doors of the Royal suite. "It's good to be home. Thank you for helping us take it back."

"I only kept them company. I think they had reason to fight harder for it than I."

"Don't play down your role," she scolded gently, folding her arms. "My brother doesn't talk much from the heart; he keeps to himself more often than I'd like but he told me you went against him when he was ill with gold sickness. He told me you treated him like he was a person of worth... a man... not just Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror who had no home and no importance other than a King with no Kingdom."

Ferin looked away from the woman's intent gaze and gripped the door handle, tracing the designs for distraction. "He likes you. And he values you whether you see it or not." She sighed when Ferin continued to play with the handle, not knowing what to say. "When I have rested from my journey, I would like to go for a walk through the halls. I am eager to see the forge again and to see what has commenced so far in rebuilding the city. I would like for you to join me."

Ferin cleared her throat and looked at the woman. "Alright."

"Good. I look forward to it."

Ferin tried to smile and Dis returned it before turning and leaving. Ferin went into the room in a daze, bathing and dressing and crawling into the bed without really thinking about it. A few minutes later, Thorin came and joined her. He gently turned her to lie on her back and watched her intently by the low light of the moon through the window.

"Are you alright?"

Ferin nodded and watched him in the dark, her fingers rising to brush against his hair. "I'm just trying to get used to your sister. She seems fond of me already but I worry about meeting her expectations."

"You do not have to worry. My sister is kind and very honest. If she did not see you as an ally and friend, she would have said so immediately."

She hummed but said nothing further. She was tired but her body was awake and curious. A small breeze of cool air entered under the door and she shivered. Thorin shifted above her to shield her from it, elbows resting either side of her, leg slipping between hers.

She took a deep breath at the sensation of his heat and skin, the thump of her heart and rush of blood sounding so loud to her. Feeling the atmosphere change, she trailed her fingers through his hair to his face, down his long nose and across his lips where his hot breath ghosted across them. Feeling bolder still at his silent acquiescence, she trailed them lower across his soft beard and the rougher stubble at his neck. He swallowed when she reached his Adam's apple and became more breathless when she moved them lower, her touch light and teasing.

When she reached his collarbones and scratched the skin, he ducked his head down swiftly but paused at the last second to let his mouth linger over hers. The sudden proximity made her breath stutter and she felt a tingling drop in her stomach, a sensation she often had when she'd nearly fallen or missed a step without notice.

When he didn't move she glanced up from where she'd been staring at his mouth to see his dark eyes watching her. She wondered...

When she ran her nails roughly down his chest to his belly, fingers spreading out against the rough feel of hair and the puckered flesh of his scar he groaned harshly and dropped his mouth to hers, his lower body trapping her hand between them. His mouth was firm and warm and he moved to capture her bottom lip between his, easing his kiss into something more playful. He nipped and sucked and pressed and she gripped his side and ran her leg up his, the scratch of hair sending a pleasurable shudder right up her spine.

He licked her bottom lip and she opened without hesitation, moaning when it curled around hers. She tightened her grip and arched into him and he groaned at her reaction, a deep rumbling sound that hummed against her chest. The sensation of it against her nipples made her gasp and he hummed again, pressing closer and trailing a hand down her side to rest at her waist. He continued to explore the ridge of her teeth and the roof of her mouth and the slid of his tongue against hers made her burn for air but she couldn't have stopped if she'd tried.

He made no move to go further, his upper body crowding her but it was a comforting but thrilling weight. He kissed her for what felt like hours and she responded in kind, only breaking away from him to gasp for breath before angling in another direction.

When he finally began to ease back, returning every few seconds as if he couldn't quite stop himself, they were both panting for much needed air, foreheads pressed together. She wanted more and so did he, by the feel of him hard against her thigh, but they had agreed to go slowly and it was promising to be a burning, glorious wait.

It took the better half of an hour before they began to settle, wilfully ignoring their arousal to curl around each other to sleep. They still had a lot to learn about each other and they'd had so little time to do it the last few weeks. As he pulled her to rest against him, she vowed to learn something about him every day. Since Hilda had become less frequent in the mornings, Ferin had found that outside of not wearing smallclothes and disliking servants, he rather enjoyed reading with her when he could, that he did not snore and that he liked tactile contact, especially if it was initiated by her. It was a woefully small amount of information she'd gleaned since arriving in Erebor but tomorrow, she would learn something else and would continue to do so for as long as he would let her.

Just before she drifted off, nose pressed against the skin of his neck she thought of a few more things she hadn't known before now; he was a fantastic kisser, had the patience of a saint and he smelled really _really_ good despite the fact he'd not bathed since this morning.

This slow pace was going to kill her.


	19. A Promise Kept

**A/N: Apologies for this late chapter! Life, college, assignments and exams all rolled into the last little while and I was too tired to do this chapter justice. Hopefully it turned out well and I hope you enjoy! It's a bit of a monster. Also, the reaction to Hilda was hilarious. I only had her there briefly and such negativity. How delightful!**

**I will say here that I received two negative reviews the other day and I am not replying to them individually here as I'm pretty sure they stopped reading at chapter 4 so I highly doubt they've gotten this far if they disliked it ****. I just wanted to say thank you for your reviews and I'm sorry you thought this story 'sucks' and that you think Vala is a horrible character who treats Ferin horribly. I also find it hilarious that out of all the things that are non-canon in this story, you find Ferin's drunkenness the least believable compared to the fact that I have Ferin as a dog at the beginning of this story and that she has no proper Race. Thank you for the hilarity of a review that really makes no sense. I hope you got some enjoyment out of not liking my story.**

**Now! Thank you to my followers and reviewers as always:**

**Caladhiel999: Mae Govannen! Thank you for your review and private message. I'm so glad you're enjoying my story! I feel your enthusiasm and it lifts my spirits. I hope you enjoy some more and I apologise for the wait!**

**Loki'sdreamer: The slow pace will kill me too! I have to write it! Also, hope the pace in this chapter is not as rushed as I thought it might be. I've been sitting on this for a while so it seems a long time to me even though it's only been a day for Ferin and Thorin.**

**Goldspleen: Oh I couldn't end the story after the battle! I couldn't be that cruel and I never planned to stop there and I don't plan on stopping just yet either. I have another plot up my sleeve.**

**Kaaayyytteee: Thank you very much, my dear. Hope you enjoy this one just as much!**

**Westwingnut221: Thank you so much! The only thing I'm sorry about here is no Dis. Dis will feature in the next chapter I'm sure if I can keep track of my word count. Don't want to go too overboard with the long chapters. This one's a monster as it is!**

**MugglebornPrincesa: I'm not sure Hilda would like being punched in the ovaries but I'm sure Ferin wouldn't mind. The woman brings it on herself I suppose! And don't worry, I'm thinking of plans for Hilda. Mwahaha.**

**LilithLieLoveHeart: I'm so glad you're still reading and reviewing, my dear. Having regulars is a bonus I didn't expect. Hope you enjoy this one.**

**Samolfran: Hope you enjoy this one, thank you again for the review!**

**Uno mega: I believe it was! And if you liked the kiss, I can only hope you like what's to come.**

**Tathal: You, my dear, are phenomenal! My email couldn't even hold your review it was so long. I had to come to here to read it and I was so surprised by the length, I had to sit up to fully enjoy it. If you wanted to post the longest review in the world, I would read every bit of it so don't feel sorry at all for the length. I was delighted! Also, I hope your main question about the trigger is answered here. Not much Hilda and Dis in this one but there will be more. I have plans. Plans I tell you!**

**DarknessMakesMeSmile: Is it bad that I always think of Heath's Joker when I see your name? I hope not because I love that mans portrayal. Anywho! Feel free to imagine smacking Hilda around the place. It's a highly amusing image! Also, I really hope I don't give you another nose bleed due to this update!**

**NavyReservist: So glad you love it, my dear. Hopefully you'll love this one too!**

**Remus Hroozley: I'm glad you like it! Writing Thorin is frustrating, interesting and fun. I was tempted to do a Thorin POV at some point but I think it'll be taxing. I can't imagine writing in his world would be easy. Hope you enjoy this one!**

**Luna153: Hope you enjoy this chapter if you liked the action in the last chapter!**

**Blood White Rose: I'll take that cherry but I must apologise for the wait! Have your cherry back with some cookies an ice-cream?**

**PS: I'm glad you are enjoying it! Hope you continue to do so!**

**Abyss Prime: Thank you so much, hope you enjoy it as we go along!**

**Ok! I think that's it. I won't say anymore so on. we. go! (shameless Joker)**

**Blue xx**

* * *

_The flower was a deep, dark blue. Its petals curled slightly in the shade and the stem stretched to one side to seek the sun from under its rocky shelter. The small overhang allowed only a sliver of daylight to reach it but whatever nutrients it had gotten had made it grow into a wonderfully beautiful marvel. It swayed in the slight breeze, large petals collecting droplets of moisture from the small but turbulent stream running beside it._

"_Nana!" a young girl called, standing from her hunkered position by the little pool. The moss squelched beneath her bare toes from her shifting weight and she held her light blue dress away from the damp greenery with little hands. "Nana Jun! What's this one?"_

"_What one, my dear?"_

"_This one over here!"_

_An older women, hair greyed and twisted into a braid by her temples, carefully made her way over the soft moss and rocks to her grandchild by the pool. Barefooted like the young girl, the woman gathered her dress before finding a dry rock to sit on. Bending slowly and tilting her head, the woman could just see the flower hiding beneath._

"_Ah! That is a Bearded Iris Blueberry Bliss," she said with a smile. The young girl laughed at the name, shaking her head at the absurdity of it. Why could no one choose simple names for these? Her dark curly hair bounced at the movement and she pushed it back impatiently. Hunkering down once more to peer at it again, she dropped her dress in her efforts. "Stains," the woman chided, but she could not hold in her smile, not that the girl paid any attention, so fixated was she by the flower._

_"Why is it on its own?"_

"_I don't know, Sen dear."_

"_Why is it under a rock? Flowers need sun don't they?"_

"_They do but I don't know why it's there. Perhaps a creature left it there in its leavings."_

_The girl turned her head up and wrinkled her nose. "Ew, Nana. That is disgusting."_

_The woman laughed and straightened up. "What other way could it have gotten there? You've read my books but you don't seem to be taking any of it in."_

"_I don't like flowers and herbs and healing. There's too much to learn."She ran her fingers through the damp ground while she tried to remember if she'd come across this one before. The flower didn't move or talk but Nana had often said that flowers were living creatures. Only they weren't like them._

_"Maybe he got left behind?"_

"_Left behind?"_

"_Like Ma and Da left us. Maybe he didn't get to go."_

_The woman smiled sadly, thinking of her daughter and husbands passing not too long ago. Sen was only eight years old and still had a fair bit of growing up to do without their guidance. "What an imagination you have. You'd swear you were in your tweens. Perhaps you are right though. One never knows the ways of the world, truly."_

"_He looks lonely."_

"_He?"_

_The girl nodded firmly. "Do you think he wants to come with us?"_

"_You want to bring him home?"_

"_Of course! We can't leave him here on his own. And he's very pretty!"_

_The woman smiled, fixing her dress to stand. "Very well then. Pick him carefully now."_

_The girl beamed and reached her hand to the base of its stem. Gently shifting the dirt, she tugged and pulled until the roots came loose and the flower was free. Dirt clumped and fell and she carefully cleaned it away. Cradling the flower to her chest, she stood, heedless of the dirt and grass stains on her dress and hands and showed him off to her grandmother._

"_He's even more beautiful in the light," the woman said, standing and resting a wrinkled hand on the girls shoulder. Guiding her charge back along the path to the village, the woman allowed the girl to chatter about her find and what she'd do with it._

"_He'll need water."_

"_Indeed."_

"_And sunlight!"_

"_Of course. Wise choice."_

"_Oh, can I use Ma's vase to put him in? By the window maybe?"_

"_I suppose. It should be used for beautiful things."_

_When they came near farmer Hessel's house on the edge of the village by the small stone bridge, the girl spotted a dark-headed boy disappearing under it. She gasped. "Nana! That was the Weyfern boy!"_

_The woman stopped beside her grandchild and tried to spot the boy but he stayed well hidden. The Weyfern boy was Gildagard Weyfern's, the village blacksmiths, only son. The boy kept to himself most of the time, watching from under that black wavy hair of his. Nana Jun hummed, watching her grandchild wander away a few feet in her attempt to see the boy._

"_He might like flowers, Sen," she said encouragingly, a warm and gentle hand resting on the girls back for support._

"_You think so?"_

"_Well, you won't know unless you try."_

_The girl shuffled dirty, bare feet on the muddy earth and bit her lip. "But what if he doesn't like me? I've never talked to him before. Not properly anyway."_

"_You don't have to talk to him. You could say hello or say nothing at all and give him the flower. Do you want to?"_

_Glancing up from under her lashes, Sen blushed but looked eager. The boy was so interesting! He had blue eyes like the flower and long dark hair and she loved his quietness. She'd often heard the older women praise Master Weyfern for his boy's good looks but they said terrible things about his shyness. He was only young like her, Nana had said. It wasn't fair to treat someone badly if you didn't know them._

"_I'll wait here if you like. We have to get lunch soon and I will call you."_

_Before she knew what she was doing, Sen found herself down the small bank just under the bridge. Just across from her stood a very startled Kirin Weyfern, dark blue eyes wide and watching. His hands picked at a stray thread on his dark green tunic._

_Sen bit her lip. "Hi."_

_His eyes darted away and he took a step back, ready to escape._

_Sen stepped forward quickly. "Oh please don't go. I – " Nerves clamped her mouth shut and she fiddled with the stem of the flower. The flower! "Oh! Here!" she said abruptly, thrusting it out in front of her. He didn't move to take it and Sen realised he was too far away to do so anyway._

_She braved moving closer, the flower held in front of her like a peace offering. When she was a foot away he ducked his head to hide behind his hair. "Oh don't do that," she said softly, her hand reaching to brush back one side of it. He flinched and she nearly withdrew but then he looked up from under his lashes and something... _something_ suddenly rose up and settled at her heart. It was the most wondrous feeling she'd ever had in her short life._

_Her hand continued to move and Sen stepped closer into his personal space, tucking the hair behind his ear. He seemed as transfixed as she, hardly daring to breathe. Threading the stem of the flower through his hair and behind his ear was simple and it matched his eyes in the dark shadow under the bridge._

"_Sen! Time to go!"_

_They startled and Kirin took a step back, twisting on the ball of his foot to run. Sen panicked at letting him go so soon. "Wait! I – " But she didn't know what to say. What could she say? What could she do? Don't go yet, don't go at all!_

"_Sen!"_

_Brashness made her lean forward to kiss him on the cheek to say goodbye but he turned at her sudden movement and his mouth suddenly found hers. They froze, eyes closing reflexively. Their skin shivered and their hair stood on end and the world seemed to stop for a moment... for a lifetime..._

_They parted slowly, shaking at the strange feeling, not understanding it._

_And then he was gone and Sen was being called again. She emerged with pink cheeks and Nana Jun watched her curiously. She didn't ask any questions and Sen didn't offer any answers. They walked back to their home and had lunch and when Sen went to bed later that night, she dreamt of blue eyes and the stars shifting above them._

Ferin woke to find herself pressed against Thorin's back, nose buried in his hair, a breath away from his skin. A soft strand tickled her upper lip and she shifted to brush it aside with her nose but another took its place. Pulling her head back, she lifted the arm that was wrapped around his waist to collect the hair and push it towards the pillow. The whole left side of his face and neck was exposed now and he sighed when the cooler air of the room wafted across his skin.

Feeling lazy and content, Ferin smiled, the remnants of the strange dream she'd had falling away with every second. Instead of allowing her hand to fall back to his waist, she trailed it along the back of his neck, smiling at the reaction of his skin; goosebumps rose up swiftly and travelled down as far as she could see and he sighed again, shifting in his sleep before settling. She trailed her hand down again, firmer this time, revelling in the soft skin and slight scratch of his hairline and he hummed softly.

She smiled. He was far more sensitive that she'd thought. When she moved around to his ear and traced around its edge his breath hitched and he tensed. He'd woken up. She paused and waited until he got his bearings before continuing when he twitched his ear and leaned into her touch.

She chuckled lowly and traced his ear more firmly, shivering at his soft groan. "You're very sensitive here."

He grunted in response, his hand reaching back to fall on her thigh behind his. His warm fingers just barely reached the skin beneath the edge of the shirt she'd worn to bed but he tugged it up to run his rough palm across it. Her own breath hitched.

Knowing they wouldn't have longer than perhaps an hour before Hilda came to clean the room and bring breakfast (and her agreement at the slow pace of their - whatever this was), Ferin shifted and gripped his shoulder, gently coaxing him to rest on his front. He grunted in enquiry.

Ferin smiled. "I distinctly remember a promise I made some time ago."

He didn't respond but she could almost feel him thinking. He willingly followed her guidance to rest on his front, one arm hooked under the pillow for extra support and the other by his side. Ferin smiled and rose to push the sheet down to his lower back, slipping out from under it to straddle his thighs lightly. The cooler air was refreshing, waking her further.

He sighed and relaxed when he realised what she was doing, her hands sliding lightly from the thick muscles of his shoulders down to his lower back, returning to repeat the caress again. After a few minutes of feeling the difference in his skin and hers (softer then she would have thought but packed with thick, corded and tense muscles and puckered scars) she pressed more firmly, kneading and working out hard knots and manipulating the tender areas until he moaned with relief.

"Are you always this tense?"

He took a minute to respond. Eyes closed he hummed in affirmatively.

She frowned, focusing on the hard knot between his shoulder and neck. Rising to put more weight into her movements she spoke again, keeping her voice soft to match the atmosphere. "How are you faring with everything?" This was the first time she'd been able to ask him about it properly. Before, they'd been too tired or too busy.

He sighed and she couldn't tell whether it was from the release of some of his tension at her hands or whether it was a different sort. "I find it exhausting. We have not truly had a break since we reclaimed our home and there is much to be done still. Dale is slow at repairs but I cannot spare many workers for Erebor is larger and has taken the brunt of the damage. Bard knows this but the people are resentful."

Ferin hummed and moved down to his shoulder blades, circling the heal of her palm into the dips and planes of his back and spine. The sheer amount of muscle he had... She took a careful breath, willing her sudden arousal down. He was a true epitome of Dwarven strength and endurance; looking like he was indeed built from the very rock around them. She would have been in agony at the amount of tension and knots that were present but he bore it stoically and she wouldn't have known before now. Perhaps this would become a regular occurrence; it was enjoyable to him, she knew, from his sighs, moans and grunts and she found great pleasure in running her cooler hands over the furnace of his strong back.

"They don't understand," she commented. "They could be resentful of not having any claim to Erebor, for it was Bard who brought Smaug to his death but they have no right to it all the same. It could be resentment for seeming to be left behind as well."

He hummed in agreement. "I will be talking to Bard soon. He will have to gather a few of the leaders of the city to establish what is to be done. Resentment breeds contempt and more would follow."

"There would be a lot of trouble," she agreed. Wishing to turn his mind away from the politics of ruling the city, she spoke with a lighter tone. "The renovations are coming along quite well."

"I have heard." He grunted when she hit a sore spot on his left shoulder blade. Easing off, she worked on it more gently before smoothing it out.

"Everyone seems to be settling as well. Nori has established a network of communications between the Races and his brothers are doing well in the Library. I also hear Bombur is gaining high praise as the main cook in the kitchens. He has more staff now so he seems to be directing more than cooking but he seems happy. His brother and cousin are doing well making toys when they are not helping with the clearing of the tunnels."

"Dwalin has the idea of establishing a new Guard for Erebor as well as Dale," Thorin murmured. "There are still rogue enemies in the area and some of the less than savoury of the Races have taking to raiding the camps. There are not many of them now but it won't take a lot of time –" He cut himself off with a sigh when she ran her hands over his back and up into his hair before returning to kneading the knots further down.

Ferin smiled. "Enough talk, I think. Relax, the day is still early."

He hummed in thanks but the more she worked on him, the more he tensed in certain spots. She thought maybe he'd had enough of the tender areas (he was riddled with them the further down she went). He winced more often and she felt at a loss; should she continue? It had been going so well but his reactions had tempered her own enjoyment and she feared the loss of his. Moving down to the base of his spine, she thought to finish here after a few minutes but when she hit a particularly sore spot by his lower right side along his spine, he hissed a word in Khuzdúl that she didn't know. She froze, fearing she'd truly hurt him but his hand suddenly moved and gripped her thigh tightly.

"Don't stop," he ground out, "I am fine."

Unsure, Ferin hesitated. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You will not, I assure you."

"But..." she cleared her throat. "I have caused you pain already."

He shifted, his breath hitching slightly. "You have caused me no pain."

He stroked his thumb along the front of her thigh in reassurance and Ferin went back to it, her mind trying to process what he meant. He was enjoying it? Obviously by the sounds of it and she was suddenly relieved. He growled when she continued and it sent a spike of pleasure through her but she tried to ignore it. This was for him. She applied pressure to the same spot before moving more towards his tail bone to work out the last of it. Her thumbs moved to either side of his spine now and she pressed and circled - he gave a sharp "_Oh!" _before his hips shifted against the bed and his shoulders arched up as if to relieve the pressure on his spine as he –

Heat flared through her and her thighs constricted around his reflexively. He wasn't just enjoying it, he was actually _aroused_ and was _thrusting against the bed_ and she'd apparently found a sweet spot. She could be quite stupid in the early hours of the morning and it _had_ been a while... _Oh fuck I have to make him do that again._ Not wasting the opportunity she'd been given to please him, she lightly worked the skin at the base of his back in circles with both hands before deliberately scraping her thumbnails down a few inches either side of his spine. There would be no more misunderstandings now. He hissed and thrust again, hand tightening on her thigh and the pillow under his head.

"_Harder._"

Ferin felt breathless and swallowed against his command, doing as he wished. He groaned brokenly and she knew it wasn't enough by the brief desperation she could see flashing across his features, pressed as he was against the pillow. Biting her lip she sat more heavily on his thighs, trapping his fingers against her own thigh and calf before running her hands up to his shoulders and neck, before swiftly bringing them back down to the base of his back, pressing hard at the last second, nails scraping just at the dip at the beginning of his buttocks. He bucked with a sharp "_Uh!_" before exhaling on a groan, hips thrusting against the sheets beneath them.

Ferin couldn't withhold her own gasp at his reaction and his expression changed to one of slight desperation, trying to chase the pleasure he was feeling; mouth parted, brows drawn down severely and eyes closed. At a loss as to how else to please him without causing him to lose the pleasure he sought, Ferin leaned forward to rest her weight on his back, quickly brushing his hair to one side before returning her hand to his sweet spot, pressing and circling. When the skin of his neck was visible, she brushed her lips across it.

Thorin's breath hitched. He keened something in Khuzdúl and to Ferin, it sounded like he was begging.

She groaned, a slight disbelief undercutting her pleasure but she felt his need, felt his desperation and was all too familiar with that threshold that he couldn't seem to cross. She kissed the skin again in reassurance before opening her mouth to scrape her teeth along his hairline.

He growled something long and harsh in his rumbling language, sucking air into his lungs at the end, his hand swiftly moving up to take hold of a part of the headboard of the bed, gripping tightly until his knuckles turned white. He was lost to it now and Ferin could only pant as desperately, trying and failing to get enough air into her lungs. Years of withholding her own displays of pleasure through fear of rejection kept her obvious reactions and arousal limited to her body heating and thighs clenching in time with his thrusts but she felt just as close, just as far gone as he was. Her belly tightened and her thighs clenched and oh it had been so _long so long, pleasepleaseplease_ -

He growled in frustration but Ferin couldn't think properly. Resting her forehead on his shoulder she groaned raggedly, "Let go, Thorin. _Let go_." _I can't peak without you_, she thought with a groan. _I need you to come so I can_.

He arched his shoulders up against her as if to move and she suddenly had an idea. He shifted just enough to get his hand under his chest and lift his hips when she suddenly moved her hand around his hip to grasp his length, twisting her fingers to press firmly just under the head. She did not recognise her own voice when she growled against his ear, "_Come for me_."

"_Oh – fuck!_"

He bucked under her and was silent for a split second before he roared his release. Her body reacted violently and coherent thought was lost as she joined him; her back arched upwards, hips pressing into his backside and her centre tightened like a vise, sending one long pulse of pleasure that forced her body rigid. Her voice caught at the back of her throat and she couldn't get enough air but _oh gods ohgodsohgods_ –

When coherent thought returned briefly she felt him collapse against the bed, her hand trapped beneath and she followed with a large gasp for air. For several minutes neither moved. Ferin could only press her cheek against his shoulder blade while she caught her breath.

"Are – " he stopped and tried again after several more breaths. "Are you –"

He cleared his throat and she grinned at what he was trying to say. "Oh I'm fine," she panted. "_More_ than fine."

He turned his head against the pillow, having had it nearly buried when he collapsed and looked at her from the corner of his eye. "You...?"

"Oh yes. Very much so."

He groaned slightly before huffing out a laugh. "I was thinking I was selfish. It has been a... long time."

"Same."

He chuckled at her short response but she honestly didn't care. "Thank you."

She huffed out a laugh herself and rubbed her cheek against his skin for lack of energy to do anything else. "No. Thank _you. _That was wonderful. It's been a very long time since I've found release and even rarer than I did not need any other stimulus other than someone else's pleasure."

He flushed and she was dimly aware of a part of him liking her response but the weight of him was beginning to numb her hand and she really didn't have the energy to move, let alone continue. Slow was a good idea. She wasn't a tween any more after all. She'd have to build her stamina. He also had a day of ruling to do and he seemed equally unwilling to move despite his interest.

A knock on the door several minutes later roused them from a doze (Ferin was secretly delighted that he seemed to have no trouble with her weight on his back) and he groaned.

"I don't know why I keep her here," he confessed.

Ferin sighed. She hadn't seen much of Hilda in the several weeks she'd been staying with Thorin but she got the distinct impression the woman still didn't like her. Cutting glares and subtle comments were common any time they saw each other and Hilda's advances towards Thorin were increasing.

"Why don't you release her from her service if it troubles you so?"

He hummed. "I find no rightful way of doing so. Her peers have credited her as an adequate maid with a kind demeanour and I can find no fault in her duties. I can't be rid of her just because she makes me uncomfortable and I have not seen any evidence of her acting untoward to you or any of my kin. No one else has offered to take over so I must keep her for now."

Ferin kept silent and thought. Was it right to give Thorin an excuse to dismiss the woman because she did, in fact, make disparaging remarks? Perhaps, but they were few and far between and Ferin could handle herself. If they escalated, she would say something but for now, it wasn't her place. She may sleep in the King's bed and share his company but they had not discussed what, exactly, they were to each other.

Another thought occurred to her; no one else had offered? That was strange. The knock came again, firm and impatient. "Sire?"

When Thorin didn't answer, Ferin gathered her energy and rolled to his side. "You have Kingly duties, Sire," she said, smiling softly at him. His head was turned towards her and one eye was just visible under his dark hair. He watched her quietly for a moment before reaching up a hand to run through her hair and skim across her cheek to her neck.

Ferin sighed at the contact, pressing against his heat but the knock came again. "Sire. May I come in?" Hilda cleared her throat. "There is someone to see the – Lady Ferin and she has a rather large... thing with her."

Ferin and Thorin frowned at each other. Thing?

There was a scratch on the door and a mumble before a sharp, "Calm yourself, you daft beast!" Ferin leaned up on her elbows and watched the door carefully.

"Come in."

The knob turned and suddenly the door banged open, a large furry, drooling bear of a dog charging in to leap up onto the bed with a bark. He immediately insinuated himself on their side of the bed, flopping across Ferin's lap and Thorin's thighs.

"Rebel!" Ferin chided, grunting and trying to shift the dog's weight off them. The dog mistook her tone, or ignored it, and stood to fix his entire body on her to lick her face in greeting.

"Rebel, don't be so rude!" Moira called from the doorway. She brushed passed a flustered and annoyed Hilda and walked briskly to the bed. "Good morning, Thorin dear. How are you faring this morning?"

Thorin, who'd turned to collect himself for company after the dog released him, nodded in greeting. "I am well."

A blush rose across his face when Moira eyed him shrewdly, smiling knowingly after a few moments. "Hmm, A _very _good morning. Excellent. Companionship is always lovely and it relaxes the mind and body to achieve greater things." She sighed wistfully. "It's been such a long time since I've had a good – "

"Moira," Ferin warned, her glare tempered by the large dog still pinning her to the bed and Hilda's presence across the room. The woman wasn't even pretending to dust, glaring across at Ferin.

"Hmm? Oh don't be so prudish dear!" she laughed. "I could tell you about a fair few tricks. Do you know I might also have a book somewhere? From the Eastward lands. Has very erotic pictures and descriptions but you'd have to be very limber for a fair few."

"Moira."

"Though I'm sure you could manage it with Thorin here. Fine strong lad. He'd be able to hold you against a wall or even standing with just him supporting you – a lovely one I assure you if you have the strength – and with a few exercises I'm sure you could bend and twist to –"

"_Moira!_ Stop talking about sex and get this beast off me!"

But Moira wasn't listening, lost in thoughts of her youth and whatever was in that book. Ferin growled and glanced over to see Thorin looking slightly green as Moira had chattered on. He had that look she'd seen on many a young lad before when an older person talked about sex. It was just something you didn't want to see. Or think about.

"Thorin." He turned to her. "A little help would be nice."

He blinked and took a breath to expel the images in his mind. "Off," he said firmly. Rebel eyed him for a moment, tongue retracted and ears pricked and then he stood and padded to the end of the bed and lay there quietly.

Ferin scowled at the dog. "Sure. Listen to him then. See if I care."

Moira came back to herself to nod in approval at Thorin's order. "Very good. Now dear, I believe you have a city to run and I want to borrow Ferin for the morning before she meets your sister to see about the Forge."

Thorin tilted his head respectfully and waited until Moira turned away to reach for his discarded breeches from the night before.

"Now, missy," Moira said sharply to Hilda. "Off with you. I know all you do is dust and clean and bring breakfast but you're not needed today so off you go!"

Hilda opened her mouth to protest but Moira glared at her and waved her hands towards the door. For such a small woman, she knew how to command many a person larger than herself.

Gritting her teeth and sending a glare Ferin's way for no reason Ferin could possibly think of, Hilda turned sharply and left, the door thumping shut a little harder than necessary. The sound of running water made Ferin aware that Thorin was bathing and she turned and stood by the bedside to don her breeches for some modesty until she could bathe herself.

"You might want to do something about those sheets," Moira said lightly, having moved over to the small breakfast table by the window. It was brighter now, the winter mornings having grown longer as the world moved towards spring.

Ferin glanced down to the obvious remnants of their earlier activities and blushed. Clearing her throat, she whipped the sheets off the bed and folded them carefully to conceal the spot, laying them aside to be dealt with later. Walking over with as much dignity as she had left, Ferin sat opposite Moira and began to unload the basket that Hilda had brought for breakfast. She set aside a larger portion of chicken and fruit for Thorin before she split her meal between herself and Moira, the older woman appreciative at the offering.

"There's something odd about that woman."

Ferin paused in the midst of eating a grape. "Oh?"

"Have you been around her much?"

"Can't say that I have."

Moira hummed, popping a bit of chicken into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. Ferin took a sip of water and glanced over to find Rebel asleep on the bed.

"Be mindful of her. She seems very attached to your Thorin and I can see a glint of something there..."

"Something?" Ferin asked, mind stuttering slightly at the thought of 'her Thorin'.

"Indeed. I've seen it in many a young lass' eye but coming from a maid to her King... I don't like it."

"He's not her King. Not really."

"How do you mean?"

"She met him soon after I was injured. Offered her services as King's maid."

"That's odd."

"I thought so but he has told me he thought little of it at the time. His mind was elsewhere."

Moira frowned and reached for a grape. "I'll look into it a bit more. Now, how have you been faring since the Battle?"

Ferin was surprised and she showed it. "What do you mean? That was over two months ago."

"Aye but you haven't talked about it."

"I have."

"To whom?"

"To Vala."

Moira frowned again and pursed her lips in disapproval. "Not from what she tells me. You've barely mentioned it and brush it off when she brings it up. You've also been forcing yourself to keep busy these last few weeks."

Now it was Ferin's turn to frown. "That is unfair. I wasn't going to sit by while they rebuilt it themselves when I could help."

"Why? It's not your home and you accomplished your task of getting it back for them."

Ferin sat back abruptly, feeling like she'd been struck. "Why do you say that?"

Moira softened her expression. "I apologise. I merely wanted to test your reaction. You feel strongly for this place?"

Ferin laid the flat of her palms against the wooden grain of the table and took a deep breath to still the anger. "Of course I do."

"I understand. I just wanted to make sure of something. But that is for later. We are off topic again. How do you feel?"

"I feel fine."

"Do you?"

"Moira, what is the point of this?"

"Do you not wonder at your visions? That you thought you would die? Did you know how you would fair in battle or did you even try to understand what they were telling you?"

"What? Why are – " she forced out a sigh. "I didn't understand what they meant until we got captured in Mirkwood."

"And?"

Ferin rolled her eyes but resigned herself to talking about it. "I started to see a pattern; each path had a sequence. One led to my death before I could even think to help the others. Another led me to Vala's death. Another led me to Thorin's and so on. So I began to pick a path and imagine myself changing it. It worked to an extent. The events were changed but some paths led me astray."

"Explain."

"One path allowed me to save Thorin at first but then something else took its place and he was killed anyway. I spent weeks trying to change it but every time I did, he died anyway so I chose another path, but this led me in the same direction, only it was my death and not Thorin's. It was the most promising so I chose to memorise it. If I could not save them, any other path would be pointless."

"You never saw past your injury?"

"I believed it to be my death and many times it was most _definitely_ my death unless I did something different or did it in a certain way."

Moira shifted forward in her seat, as much as she could at least. "How so?"

Ferin frowned and ran her thumbnail along the arm of the chair, picking at non-existent splinters. "I had my head cut off in one."

"Dear me," Moira said in alarm. "How can you be sure?"

"Azog was the one who did it so I can be sure."

"Yet you didn't die and you are here now. Do you know why?"

"No." Truly, she didn't. It didn't make sense. There was nothing she had foreseen to show her what had triggered the correct path. She had believed she was going to die but until she had seen the sequence of events that led to her... injury, Ferin had expected any number of the visions to have come true. The visions had shown her several small moments of interactions before the battle in Erebor with the others but none were significant or clear enough for her to understand what she would have had to do.

"I have talked to Vala and Balin about it and I have come to the conclusion that giving Thorin your gift was the trigger."

"How?"

"It helped me to come around from my gold sickness."

Ferin turned her head sharply. She hadn't even heard him approach. He was dressed in a dark green tunic with embroidered cuffs and hem, a wide belt holding it in place. Dark leather breeches were tucked into a fine set of leather boots with silver clasps and his hair was braided neatly in the usual manner. His dark green cloak draped over one arm and the crown he disliked hung from his fingers loosely. His dark eyes watched her carefully.

"You knew?"

"I didn't know the exact details, like you would have through your visions, but there was time for conversation while you were recovering to clear a few things up." He looked meaningfully at Moira and the woman inclined her head in acknowledgement.

Ferin felt her heart drop into her stomach and it was suddenly difficult to breathe. "And you stayed?"

He nodded. She couldn't voice her thoughts; thoughts of him staying out of obligation for saving him and his kin. She'd not thought of that before now. No wonder he'd been odd when she'd woken.

He seemed to know what she was thinking. "I stayed because I wanted to stay. I was concerned."

Concerned. Concerned that his saviour would not make it? That he could not thank her unless she woke up? That he could not repay her when the time came?

Oh. Was this relationshi – whatever this was – his repayment? Was he being kind to her for a debt? Was he entertaining her affection –

"Stop," he said softly. He dropped the crown without care onto the table and cupped her chin in his hand, thumb brushing across her cheek. "Don't think whatever it is you are thinking. I – "

There was a knock on the door and Dwalin peered in. He cleared his throat at the scene before him but kept his face carefully neutral. "We're late. We have to oversee the new guard this morning before meeting with Bard."

Thorin looked conflicted for a moment but he knew he had a duty and so did Ferin. She closed her eyes and raised her hand to his, grasping it. She smiled resignedly. "Go. I promise to try and keep my thoughts positive for the rest of the day."

He hesitated before nodding. "Good. I will see you this evening and we will talk." He picked up his crown and put it in his other hand with the cloak, leaning forward to press his forehead against hers, his free hand grasping the back of her head to keep her there. "Keep your promise."

She nodded once and then he was gone.

"Are you alright, love?"

Her stomach churned and her hands shook and she was pretty sure that these past few weeks were just a dream and that she'd died on the battlefield. Out loud she said, "I am fine."

Moira hummed, entirely unconvinced but she suddenly clapped her hands (which startled Rebel into a braking frenzy at the sudden noise) before moving off the chair and heading towards the door. "Come, let's go for a walk. I found one of those maps of Thorin's and I believe I found something very interesting hidden in them."

Ferin had no choice but to follow, lest she work herself into a state sitting on her own all day until she was to meet Dis. They moved out of the King's suite and down to the lower level where the pulley system was, Rebel tottering behind them. Moira chattered about her comings and goings throughout the city, regaling tails of gossiping Dwarves and enjoyable encounters. She'd found Bombur's kitchen and had had a wonderful time learning the ins and outs of Nori's communication network of people; both savoury and unsavoury. She'd found good companionship with Bofur and his odd cousin Bifur and had spent many a week in the massive library accompanied by a cheerful and enthusiastic Ori.

When they reached a level above the gold chamber, Moira had tapered off into a comfortable silence and Ferin was grateful. She followed Moira down winding tunnels, Rebel keeping pace with the odd sniff at something that seemed interesting, not really paying attention to where they were going (Moira seemed to know), and wasn't really surprised to find Moira going back to the topic they'd left earlier.

"Vala and Balin had tried to talk to Thorin several times outside of your attempts, you know. They couldn't get through to him though, not with the sickness upon him. It was too strong. They had both made the decision to tell Thorin what was to happen – "

Here Ferin stopped and frowned. Above them, the small tunnel - a Dwarf wide and two heads higher than Ferin – sparkled with the embedded metals and natural jewels. The tunnel had started out as plain dark stone, carved out like the person had wanted to keep it boring and ordinary; a small tunnel that led to nowhere. Moira had commandeered a torch from another tunnel entrance in passing and had left it several feet back on a sconce in the wall. It had lit their way in the darker area but now the tunnel was beginning to fill out with an increasing amount of diamonds, metals and jewelled elements that seemed to emit a light of their own.

Ferin did not notice. "Why would they do such a thing? The whole point was to not let them know so we'd have a chance to save them. I knew he'd be too ill to think clearly so I knew I could not tell him."

"Ah, but he was ill until you gave him your gift."

"But what did that achieve bar helping him think more clearly?"

"It gave them time to talk to him. And he _listened_. Before he would not have and you all would have died. By giving him your gift, you brought him out of it and they could plan ahead. They knew their roles and they knew what to do. Ferin," Moira said firmly. "Thorin knew you would die. Vala told him as much for she believed it as well. He may not have known as much detail but he knew enough to want to prevent your death as much as you wanted to prevent his and his sister-sons from the same Fate. He knew what you would do and he had a plan of his own."

Ferin could only gape repeatedly in her efforts to respond to that. "I - I don't – this is – I don't know what to say," she said eventually, running her hands through her hair n frustration.

"Well, while you think of it, let's keep going. I'm determined to find out why Thror's father built this tunnel only to warn people from entering it."

Ferin nodded absently and followed and it wasn't until they'd reached a dead end that Ferin realised what Moira had said. "Where are we?"

"Blast! I thought there'd be more."

Rebel huffed and roo'd at his mistress's frustrated cursing and Ferin ignored them to look around. The tunnel glowed with the blue and sliver of the metals around them but it only looked this way once someone was at least seventy metres inside. To any other Dwarf, the markings on the dead end in front of them would have warned them off that there was nothing here but danger and a dead end but Ferin didn't understand what they said and Moira was too busy reading the map.

"Thror's father thought this tunnel led somewhere into the mountain but the more they dug, the more the mountain seemed to resist their efforts. It took them three months just to get this far and that was with the best mining tools ever made during that time. I thought there'd be more to it but it's just a dead end."

"Then let's go back."

Moira cursed some more but eventually nodded, very disappointed. They turned to go when Rebel whined and barked at the floor. He scrabbled against the edge of the floor and the dead end wall, barking and whining before repeating the process.

"What's gotten into you, you daft thing?"

"Rebel, stop that. You're too damn loud in here!"

The dog continued and Ferin had had enough. She stepped forward to grab the dog's scruff as Moira did the same. They only heard a brief click as Rebel caught his paw on something before a section of floor gave way, sending woman, Witch and dog down into the dark.


	20. Another Horrible Author's Note

Um, hullo! I apologise greatly for not getting my arse in gear for this story. I promise you I still haven't abandoned it! I'm getting there slowly but my work placement and exams have exhausted me these last weeks. The only day I have off is Sunday and my body and brain refuse to co-operate enough to produce a new chapter. I'm literally too tired to think and write. My inspiration is waning in the face of exhaustion and I feel guiltier every day I don't achieve anything. My plan is to watch The Hobbit again soon in the hopes it will help me get my mind back to it but I won't give any promises or dates as to when I'll have the next part up. I hope you will bear with me and I apologise again for all of it. Thank you for your patience!

So much love,

Blue xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


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